Forever and other lies
by thomlina
Summary: In 1854, a man was murdered for reasons unknown, the body never recovered. Now nearly 200 years later that mystery shall finally be solved, by one Kurt Hummel, with the help of the man's haunted ghost himself. Back in the past another is struggling both to fit in also to not let her best friend die in vain. This story switches between the two plots tangling and twisting as we go.
1. Chapter 1

**READ FIRST! **

**I'd just like to state that I'm nervous as hell about posting this. It is unlike anything I've ever posted on this site and...I'm honestly not too sure about how people will react to this story. A girl can hope that the reaction will be...awesome...for lack of a better word but...then again what if there's never anyone even reading it? What would I do then? So please let me know that you're there, I love hearing from people on here and it really helps with my whole self esteem issue...**

**WARNINGS:**

**THIS STORY INCLUDES VIOLENCE AND HATE CRIME, NOT TO GRAPHIC BUT HIGHLY IMPLIED. THIS STORY ALSO INCLUDES A SUB-PLOT WHICH LEADS TO EVENTUAL FABERRY AND I'LL I GOT TO SAY ABOUT THAT IS 'DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.' YOUR COMMENTS- IF HATEFUL- WILL BE REMOVED AND WON'T CONVINCE ME OF ANYTHING. **

**This is a Klaine story but personally I think it's much more than just that. This is not one of those stories where we are constantly waiting for our two boys to jump into each other's pants...no...this is a bit different but hopefully people won't mind my AU being as such. **

**And lastly I'd just like to clear one thing up before you move on. Now this story will take place in both 1854 and 2010 [Right after season two ends, during the summer]. It will switch from chapter to chapter between these two locations, beginning in London 1854. The characters mentioned in the sub-plot still exist in the main but are under different names and have slightly different personalities...hopefully this made sense. **

**And I am not a historian and I've never been to Britain so if there are any mistakes then please forgive me as I am human and do those sorts of things. **

**Now I do not own anything mentioned in the following story. **

**Please proceed. **

* * *

_"Love looks not with the eyes_

_ But with the mind, _

_And therefore is winged Cupid_

_Painted blind"_

_A mid-summer's night dream, 1-1 231-2_

- _William Shakespeare _

* * *

Chapter 1

_1854, London, England _

Life was not quiet…there were secrets and there were lies. There were the people who kept them and the people who shouted other's deepest darkest soul-breaking secrets to the world. There were the nasty ones who gossiped for fun and games. They ruined and sometimes ended lives by simply talking.

And they were gathered now around a lace covered table, with a tea cup and a crumpet in their hands.

"Did you hear the latest about the Gunderson's?" Quinn asked, her mouth full of pastry. Her companions gathered in closer, anxious to hear more. "Well, basically Mr. Gunderson was caught late last night with a certain French opera singer!"

The ladies gasped, their hands flying to their mouths.

"Oh my!"

She nodded, a smirk coating her rouge lips.

Her eyes scanned the table and landed on a brunette who didn't look the least bit interested in what she had to say...how dare she?

"Miss Berry, you haven't spoken? It is a great scandal so I believe you should make some sort of comment, it would be what is polite."

Rachel looked up from her watch. She had been counting down the seconds until she could be freed from this lace and flower disaster.

When Quinn had noticed her lack of interest in her- what she thought was- a dramatic retelling of the latest scandal, she simply had to single her out. Perhaps she would reveal a secret of her own? Their lives were dull as they were they needed something, anything to entertain themselves.

Rachel sighed. "I personally believe that you should mind your own business. Simply because he was in her company does not mean that there was anything between them. Just because none of you have ever had a male friend does not mean that this 'opera singer' didn't."

"But she was an opera singer!" She protested.

"And she was French," a blonde girl added. "Everyone is aware that they are-"

"Savage, improper?" A red-head offered.

"Exactly," she said. The group burst into laughter, the conversation turning straight away to their 'strange' ways, that honestly were not to different from their own. Their ladies there simply got more freedom.

Rachel rolled her eyes. These girls were clearly hopeless! They would never see much beyond their own front yards. They would marry rich gentlemen and pay someone else to raise their beautiful children. But Rachel saw life beyond that and knew that her ticket to getting out was her voice and her talent. Within a few years when she advanced to the lead in the theater, these girls would be gossiping about her. The very thought made her lips curl upwards.

She glanced down at her watch.

Any moment now, she would be able to politely excuse herself. Her escort was running rather late that day, she would scold him for it later. How dare he leave her in the minion's clutches for longer than required?

She sighed and tried to engage herself in the conversation. But Quinn's eyes remained trained on her for the rest of the party. Rachel was very much different and she knew this. She had dreams and ambitions and wanted more out of life than most simple minded women of the day. Secretly, Quinn wanted the same.

She and Rachel could be excellent friends.

Of course she would never admit that to anyone. Rachel was not proper and she was going to end up being a performer or an artist's model. Not someone to associate with and certainly not someone to befriend. So she would glance up every few seconds, hoping that she would join back in on the conversation but she never did.

She seemed more enthused with her watch then with the company around the table.

"Missis Berry?" The door had opened just an inch and a kitchen maid stuck her head inside. "Your escort is 'ere."

"Thank you, Martha. I shall be there in a moment." She said with a smile.

Martha shut the door, clearly glad to be away from the rich gals little party. She tended to avoid them whenever possible.

"Ladies, thank you for your hospitality and I shall return next week, same time, same place?"

"Yes," Quinn said, "we will look forward to your visit."

Rachel nodded to the ladies and exited the room as quickly as was polite.

"Good thing, she is gone. That Berry is an absolute bore!" Quinn called, loud enough for Rachel to hear through the door. The ladies laughed and complimented Quinn for her cruelty.

Quinn never meant a word of it.

* * *

Rachel could hear her chortling from the hallway while Martha got her coat and parasol. She sighed, it was impossible to have a friend in a place where everyone was trying to ruin you. Rachel would have canceled these little gatherings a long time before if it had not been for her father, who insisted that they must keep up appearances among the society girls.

After, her mother had fled the country to be an artist's model in Paris gossip was quite common surrounding their family. The cover story was that she had died, blood poisoning, they said, it was so horrible they said. But they all knew the truth.

They just never said it while a Berry was in attendance.

It was Rachel's duty to keep up appearances and marry well to get their family back on track. She giggled to herself. Her father would have her head on the mantle if he was to ever find out where she was really going that afternoon.

"Thank you, Martha. Have a good day now," she said.

Martha helped her into her coat and handed her the flowered parasol. Rachel briefly felt her skin under her finger tips when they exchanged the parasol. Her fingers were wrinkled and calloused from many years of faithful work in the Fabray home. Her dark skin was a shark contrast to her white uniform.

"Ye too, Missis," she replied.

She curtsied and that was that. The only conversation that she and Miss Berry had ever had and ever will. People like her simply didn't communicate with her kind.

So Rachel smiled and headed outside where a cab waited for her. She clutched her parasol in one hand and charged forward, knowing that she could not stay there another moment without saying something that she would regret.

The driver hopped off his porch and opened the door for her.

"Thank you," she said as he closed the door behind her.

She sat down and arranged her skirt around her on the seat and smiled to the cab's other occupant.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Anderson."

"As to you, Ms. Berry."

He tipped his hat in her direction, she giggled despite herself and knowing that he had no interest in her and simply couldn't help but be that charming and dapper gentleman that he was, a role that he had been born to play. Besides, his love lies elsewhere.

Blaine was always well dressed but he was particularly well dressed today. He wore a pair of white pantaloons, with a black tailcoat with overly large buttons up the front. His bowtie was a stunning black that stood out on his white button-up shirt. His boats reached halfway up to his knees and were the most fabulous of the entire get-up. The black leather gathered tightly at the top and flowed down most stunningly to the toe. Once again, she wished that women's style wasn't so limited…

His beaver top hat hid what was usually a mass of black curls that he had slicked up in the latest style. He adjusted his waist coat and smiled to Rachel.

"I simply must thank you again, Ms Berry. Not many people are so open to people, like myself." He said, with a wink.

She shook her head. "Like I've said a million times, Mr. Anderson. It doesn't bother me at all love is love in my opinion and just because the rest of the world does not agree does not mean that it is any less true."

He smirked. "If only the law was as open minded as you, my dear, then I would have married my love since."

"I am sure that they will change their minds, sir, one of these days."

"Hopefully," he sighed.

There was an awkward silence as they both stared out the windows. The cab had began moving and was currently slugging it's way through England's streets. They were in what was considered the 'bad' area of the city. The smog was as thick as the beggars along the sides of the roads. They didn't care that they could be crushed under the hoofs of the horses and raced straight up beside the cars asking for their share, pointing to one injury or another. Off in the distance a large group of factory girls were protesting the unfair and disgusting conditions of their workplace and the fire that had recently spread taking quite a few of their worker's lives.

Rachel _accidently _dropped a couple coins out the window before closing the curtains.

Blaine smirked. "Your father would not be pleased to see you giving away his precious silver."

"My father is not here and he is not to hear that I am here."

Blaine laughed. Rachel was certainly not like any other woman that he had ever come across and he was meeting quite a few of them nowadays. Since it was around his age that men normally married.

"I know we have that agreement still, Ms Berry." He said.

The cab turned a few more corners before stopping outside of a theater. The horses whined until the driver got off his perch to give them food and drink. But first he accepted the few glorious coins that Mr. Anderson handed him.

"Thank- you, good sir and please take an extra pound for your family." He dropped the extra money into his eager fingers.

"Thank- ye sir!"

Blaine and Rachel hooked arms and marched purposely towards the doors. Rachel smirked.

"Why, Mr. Anderson your father would not be pleased to see you giving away his precious silver."

He laughed. "Ah, Ms Berry you were never much of a lady but always a real hoot."

"Never planned on being one, Mr. Anderson," she snapped back.

The cab rolled off down the street behind them.

"Here is where we part, Ms Berry. Be outside of this building in exactly two hours or there will be Hell to pay and by Hell I mean your father's rages."

She laughed. "Deal then just remember not to get too cozy with your lover and be back here in time to bring me home!"

He smiled. "Will do, Ms Berry have a good rehearsal!"

They parted ways then. Rachel headed up the stairs to where her cast mates waited to rehearse their latest play. Rachel did not have a big part in the production but still enjoyed it anyways. Besides she had convinced herself that she would have the lead soon enough so she wasn't worried.

Blaine however ducked down an alley shortcut and to the hotel where he usually met him. Gavin was his name and as far as Blaine was concerned he was an angel that had come to take him into the light. He knew that he was in love and he wished more than anything that he could really marry his Gavin, he could be truly happy then.

He happily mumbled to himself as he came out of the alley and onto a whole other street. He walked with a skip in his step and a smile plastered on his face. He hadn't seen him for a few days and even though they had been exchanging notes all week, it was never the same as actually being able to see him.

He came across the hotel where they normally met. It wasn't a big swanky hotel. Just a simple rundown place that rented out rooms for hours at a time, instead of nights…he knew that it was where prostitutes did their work but it didn't matter to him. It was a chance to see his love again so what the other guests did in the rooms opposite didn't matter. It was only Gavin for him and always would be.

He entered and approached the front desk. The man was reading what looked like the daily newspaper he didn't look up when Blaine approached him.

"Good day, sir, I am here to see Gavin Lovell."

The man didn't even bat an eyelash at this. He was one of the few people who was okay with the idea of love between two men. In fact, he was gay himself.

"He is in room 134 today, Mr. Anderson."

Blaine smiled and dropped the pay on the table along with a nice tip. Nothing could break his mood that day.

"You can go on up," he said, before returning to his article. The article was centered around that terrible fire at the factory, he shook his head. It would have only taken a few more pounds to ensure the ladies safety and yet-

Blaine headed to the stairs, climbing two at a time, wishing silently that Gavin had chosen a room on the first floor instead of the fourth. That way he could get to him faster. When he finally did reach the correct floor, he had to stop himself from barging right in and politely turned the door knob to let himself inside.

The room was furnished simply. Just a bed, a dresser and a small station used to freshen up in the corner. But one thing that the room didn't have was…Gavin.

"Gavin, darling," he called.

That was odd, the man at the desk had said he had already gotten up here…oh well, he must have stepped out for a moment. Blaine headed over to the vanity to fix his already immaculate hair style.

The mirror faced the bed, leaving the door and the only exit out of view. He didn't turn around right away when he heard the door open, until he heard it shut again and the lock clicked closed.

He smiled and spun around. "Gavin-"

His eyes widened in shock.

The two men that had entered his suite were certainly not Gavin.

"Ah, did you hear that? He seems to have been expecting someone else."

"How rude, I don't think we're welcome here." His friend replied back, his hand landing on his heart in mock shock.

"W-where's Gavin?" He managed to sputter out.

"Don't worry, we're not interested in him. He's hardly worth the effort, no title, no fortune and besides your death will not go by unmarked. When we inform your father that we saw you jump into the Thames well…he will have no choice but believe us and keep this real hush, hush."

"To protect his reputation," his friend added.

"Because that is more important to him than the fact that his son's been sneaking off to visit a little tramp from downtown. Don't worry, we'll make sure it's painless and don't worry we'll dispose of you, somewhere with a decent view."

They laughed.

Blaine felt his blood turn to ice and he couldn't speak and he couldn't defend himself. They were bigger and stronger than he was and were blocking the only exit. This was the end, he supposed.

Well at least Gavin was safe because his life mattered so much more than his did.

The last thing he remembered was the ground rushing up to meet him and the terrifying sight of blood dripping into his eyes.

* * *

**And before anyone asks...I decided to post this now because...well I'm worried about our Klaine boys. So I need a non-canon comfort at the moment...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the people that alerted this story, last week, love ya. **

**Now this is what happens when Kurt doesn't meet his Blaine and when Mercedes finally gets her mind off of tots long enough to realize what's going on. **

**[SPOILER! I'm dying inside from last night's episode! My poor babies...I hope everything will be alright...]**

* * *

Chapter 2

_July 2009, somewhere over the Atlantic _

**I don't understand, boo. Haven't you always wanted to go to England?- M**

**I've always wanted to go to London, Mercedes. Not a backwater estate miles away from decent shopping and cute boys with accents. – K **

**I see, so your aunt's not… -M **

**My aunt might as well be legally crazy. The way she stays cooped up in her estate all the time…and all those books, M. She is a book collector and by what my father's said about her she's pretty…well crazy –K **

Kurt tapped his thumb impatiently for his message to go through and for her response. Phone services were terrible on planes, especially planes that were traveling over oceans. He peeked out the window and found that all he could see were clouds and the sun slowly setting. There were still a few hours yet until he would land in Britain then a couple hours bus ride then a good hour's walk from the town to the estate.

He sighed, it was going to be a long night and an early day the next day as well. And being the fabulous Kurt Hummel he had issues with sleeping in anything that moved, no matter how hard he tried he could never fall asleep on planes or cars or buses and the list goes on.

He was going to be exhausted by the time he arrived there and then was stuck spending the entire summer cataloging books in his great aunt's crazy large collection. He wasn't sure how large it was but if she needed someone to help her then…he could only imagine the Hell that he was going to end up going through that summer.

It had certainly not been his idea to spend his summer this way.

He had planned to work on his designs and perfect his already perfect singing voice while hanging out every day with Mercedes and the girls. Just enjoying the good weather and the lack of homework…

It had been about two weeks ago when Burt had approached him and told him of the last minute trip.

_"Well, I couldn't believe it. I mean, did you see what Ashley was wearing? I think it may have been a pant suit and-"_

_Kurt was laying down on his bed gossiping with Mercedes. Ashley was one of his dearest and closest friends but her fashion sense was horrendous. He and Mercedes had planned to help her get a new and more grown-up wardrobe that summer. And by the overprotection that girl had on her wardrobe…it would most likely be by brute force. _

_"Kurt, can I talk to you for a minute?"_

_His father had materialized in his doorway. He had been so caught up in his gossip that he hadn't even heard him open the door._

_"Sorry, gotta go Mercedes I'll video chat you later, okay?" _

_He said a quick goodbye and hung up the cell phone. _

_"Something wrong, dad? Are you feeling like your blood pressure might be going up because I told you that bacon-"_

_"Is a heart attack waiting to happen, I know." He said, crossing the room to sit next to his son on the bed. He looked over at Kurt and right away he knew something was up. _

_Something was wrong, he was being way too serious. _

_"Dad…"_

_"Kurt, there was something that I've been meaning to talk to you about for a while now…and you know after everything that's happened this year and how worried I am about you."_

_"Dad, I can take care of myself."_

_"I'm not worried about that! It's just I'm worried about you, you've been shying away from people except for Mercedes really and I think that what this kid did is really getting to you." _

_"Dad, he's expelled. He is never going to bother me again."_

_"But he is still in this city! I don't want that bastard in the same state as you, let alone the same city!"_

_"What are you saying?"_

_"What I'm saying is that, we are thinking that maybe you could visit your great aunt Connie over the summer…might do you some good to get away from…you know everything."_

_"You mean crazy aunt Connie? The aunt who lives a million miles away from decent civilization with only her odd collection of hundred year old books to keep her company?!" He demanded, his fist tightening on his silk comforter. _

_"So you have heard of her then? That's good because she invited you to help her catalog her things and to write her will. She's turning 78 this year and doesn't think that she could do it all herself."_

_"But, dad I have friends here and plans for the summer! This was supposed to be the best summer ever!" _

_He didn't care that he was whining and he didn't care how childish he sounded. He did not want to go and the fact that his father might end up making him…oh, it just brought out his inner diva [Well not so inner…]. _

_"I don't feel safe with you here until we can get you into that boarding school next semester…I don't want you wandering around Lima when he could be anywhere just waiting to...I don't want you to get hurt and I think this is the only way to ensure that he won't be able to hurt you."_

_"But dad-"_

_"No buts, now start packing you are leaving in two weeks and I've managed to purchase two tickets so you get four bags instead of two since you'll be there the entire summer."_

There had been arguments after that but Burt's decision was final. He was going to his great aunt's estate and there was nothing that he could do about it. He sighed and turned up the volume on his Gaga, at least she would be there for him. He just hoped that the 'charming' estate had electric plugs. His phone finally flashed with a new message, he quickly opened it.

**Don't worry, boo it's only one summer I'm sure that you can survive. Even though you couldn't take your entire fabulous wardrobe with you…you will survive and we will text and call every day no matter how expensive the long distance bills are. Love you ;] –M **

He smiled, at least he had Mercedes to talk to over the summer. With the activities planned that might just be the one thing that kept him sane over the course of the trip. Hopefully he'll be able to figure out the different time zones and that jazz. He hadn't bothered to research that but who knows his aunt might just have a book completely dedicated to time zones, for all he knew!

**Love you too, 'cedes, I'll call you the second the plane touches down. My phone's acting all weird now so…Sorry in advance if I end up calling you at four a.m. Didn't figure out time zones yet.- K **

* * *

The plane touched down at 7:00am and Kurt had not gotten one wink of sleep, as was to be expected. So he yawned as he dragged his carry-on off the plane and went to go get his suitcases. Luckily two of the cases had straps on the back so he could carry them slightly more easily with only two that had to drag on the ground.

The air port was disastrous, people rushing around trying to get to one flight or another. Kurt's bus would be waiting outside gate B in a little under an hour so he decided that he might as well get some food, while he was here. The bus would be stopping at regular intervals for washroom breaks but who knew when the next time he'd get food would be.

And he desperately needed coffee.

He fished for a couple dollars in his pockets and walked over to the counter to wait in line. He kept glancing back at his watch as the minutes ticked by. Were the baristas really that slow? He tapped his foot, annoying many people in that line. But they ignored him.

Finally, the last overweight traveler got his coffee and donut and Kurt was able to order.

"Hi, I'll take a large non-fat mocha latte and a plain bagel with butter," he said, dropping the two bags he was dragging on the ground.

"Sorry, ma'am," the guy behind the counter said. He looked up, his eyes widening. "Sorry, sir, sir…I meant sir!"

"Yeah, yeah my voice is really high pitch and I sound like a twelve year old girl. Can we get on with life, now?" He said, his feminine voice riddled with sarcasm.

"Oh, yeah right. Sir, we're out."

"Out of what? This is a food court, without food you'd just be a court."

"No I mean…that the latte machine is broken." He said, quickly looking a bit nervous. This guy looked like he hadn't slept for two days…the barista tended to watch way to many cliché movies and this guy looked like a butler and the butler was always the one murdering…without even getting blood stains on his tailcoat.

"Oh, okay then can I just get a plain black then?" Kurt asked, glancing up at the clock. He only had forty minutes and he hadn't even gotten his order yet. Plus, he had no idea where he was at the moment so as far as his luck normally goes, gate B could be at the other end of the entire building, for all he knew!

"Okay, one minute, sir."

He rushed back to quickly prepare the order himself. There were only two people on duty for the Starbucks that day and his partner had taken his break…three hours ago.

Kurt kept glancing up at the clock before looking down at his watch. It was so off! He started to reset it according to the time on the board, might as well do something useful while this clown…prepared the entire order by himself.

_Wouldn't it make more sense to have more than one person on duty during the summer?_ Kurt thought. _Honestly there must be a couple thousand people running around…and they all need caffeine… _

"Here you go sir!" He said, dropping the order in front of him.

"Um, don't mean to be picky but this isn't a large." He said pointing to the coffee cup.

"We're out of larges, sir, it's been a real busy day."

"So what you're telling me is that after sitting on a plane for 19 hours next to a middle aged man who fell asleep on my shoulder for most of the ride and drooled on my brand new Marc Jacobs jacket, you expect me to be satisfied with a small! You said, you were out of large cups, could I not at least get a medium then?!" He demanded, his nails digging into the sleeves of said Marc Jacobs jacket.

"Yes, yes sir! One minute sir, no problem, I'll just dispose of this." He picked up the coffee cup like it was contaminated and dropped it into the garbage can below the counter, slowly as if to show them that the revolting cup was gone.

He ran back to the coffee machine and prepared Kurt's medium black faster than- as he would tell his friends later- anyone in the history of coffee.

He handed the cup back to the overtired teenager, who then smiled.

"Thank- you and FYI I can see the large coffee cups from here, I'll be getting in touch with the manager within days. Have a nice day!" He said, cheerfully.

The young employee looked like his eyes were about to pop out of his head and he froze, his hands shaking. Oh, yes his boss was more scary than a murderous butler.

Kurt rearranged the bags on his arms so he could carry them along with his breakfast. He waved to the worker before setting off in search of gate B. He chuckled to himself, some people were just so gullible. The poor kid would be terrified for the entire day and then would most likely just get himself in trouble anyway when he would- without a doubt- try to figure out if Kurt had called in yet.

And hey, Kurt deserved a little fun when his entire summer vacation would be spent dusting countless books…

* * *

_"And you did what?" _Mercedes laughed, through the phone.

Kurt chuckled. "I swear that kid wet himself!"

He had managed to find Gate B and the bus stop where he would get on to reach his destination…turns out it was very close to the food court. Even still, the incident with the barista hadn't given him much time to reach the bus stop and in the end he had been there two minutes and the bus had shown up. Well at least he was on his way now and by the looks of it not many people were.

There was only ten people on a bus large enough to seat fifty. Kurt was pleased about this considering he had four bags. Three of those bags were under the bus, in the storage area. One bag and his carry on were up on the seat with him. He didn't trust the bus driver to handle his designer label clothes which had been neatly folded and kept in one suitcase. The others were full of things he had found in thrift stores and tailored himself. But he had spent a lot of money on his designer and no way was he not having them by his side at all times.

_"Ooh, boo I swear one of these days your diva rants are going to get you in some trouble…but that's just awesome."_

"I know right, but I'm going to have to let you go now. We're stopping for lunch in a little bit and I-"

_"Wait lunch? It's already after dinner here!"_

"Well now we've figured out the time zones then, I have to call you early in the morning or I will end up calling you at 4am."

She laughed. "_Knowing you, you would do it on purpose and don't you dare try to deny it."_

"Wasn't going to, say hello to everyone and tell them that I arrived in England in one piece."

_"Alright, bye bye, love ya!"_

"Love you too," he replied before pressing disconnect on the phone.

He sighed. Burt had better not give him trouble on the long distance…he was the one sending him out in the first place, right? He was the reason that he required long distance, in the first place!

Getting mad at his father for his unexpected trip was not going to help. He might as well, try to pass the time and since sleep was out of the question, he pulled out his copy of The Half- Blood Prince by the goddess JK Rowling. He soon disappeared into that magical world for the next little while until they ended up stopping for lunch, then back onto the stinking bus for another two hours.

_Le sigh,_ Kurt thought to himself.

* * *

The bus had pulled to a stop, so quickly that Kurt was flung into the seat in front of him. He glanced out the window and saw that there was a bus station but nothing around it. There were trees and what looked like a path, a little bit down from the stop but…that was it.

The bus driver had gotten off and was at the storage under the bus. Kurt followed, swinging his carry-on over his shoulder as he did so. The bus driver had taken his bags and literally dumped them on the side of the road.

"Um, excuse me?"

The man looked up. He was an older man, with hair down to his waist that tied back in a braid. He shoved his glasses up his nose, while he examined the young man in front of him.

"This is your stop, right?"

"I believe so," Kurt said, "the Lowood estate is-"

"Down that path about a mile," he finished, pointing towards the thin dirt path.

"Of course it is," he muttered. "Well thank-you for the ride and how carefully you handled a paying customer's bags."

He roughly picked up his bags and arranged them so he could still walk while carrying them. He spun around and walked away in what could be described as a huff [If the bags didn't weigh about twice as he did and weighed him down…].

The driver muttered under his breath, something that sounded like, _damn them city boys._

Kurt found that the path was very thin and that dragging his bags down said path would most likely take longer than he had hoped.

"This is going to be one loooooooong day," he said to no one in particular.


	3. Chapter 3

**I am dreadfully sorry about the late update...internet was being very annoying over the weekend and I wasn't able to update. Now I continue to own nothing and enjoy the next chapter. **

* * *

****Chapter 3

_London, 1854_

__Rachel was just buttoning up her jacket when the director caught up with her. He was walking towards her, this shocked her to the extent that she did her buttons up wrong and had to undo them again. What could he possibly want to talk to her about? Maybe he was thinking up moving her up for the next performance or maybe making her an understudy. Despite this being a complete misuse of her talent…so was swaying in the background and having two lines. One of them involved her screaming at the top of her lungs…

"Ah, Ms Timber so glad I could catch you before you left."

Timber was her mother's maiden name and her alias. If she risked using her real surname [Which was rather well known] then she could risk her cover being blown completely. It wasn't a very large theater and the chances of her father reading a program for one the performances was inconceivable. However it better to be safe than sorry.

So she smiled and asked, "what did you want to speak to me about?"

She hoped her excitement didn't ring too loudly through her tone of voice.

"You are an amazing actress, Ms Timber and I was wondering if you could-"

"Yes?" She squeaked, standing on the toes of her boots now.

"If you could, possibly take on a few more lines for this week's show. Ms Myer is not feeling well and those small roles need to be filled! After all there are no small roles just-"

"Small actors," she mumbled.

"Exactly! I'm loving that enthusiasm." He grinned.

"I was just wondering if maybe, I could move up in the next performance? I mean I've been here for _months_ and I think I deserve to-"

"With a talent like yours, you could go places. Just remember that you will go places soon, Ms Timber just not right now. Right now, I need you to mindlessly sway in the background and scream when needed." He assured her. "You'll get your chance, soon enough."

"I understand, sir, don't worry about it."

"Alright then, be here next week, same time. Last rehearsal before the actual performance! It's very exciting, I assure you!"

"Yes, thank you, sir. I'd best be going now, have a good afternoon." She curtsied and smiled until he walked away. She hid her clutched fist behind her back.

She had been here so much longer and worked so much harder than any of these other rejects! She came here against her father's will and risked their social standing to…sway in the background and scream? Rachel Barbara Berry deserved more than that!

But it was not proper for her to scream her head off at a director. She could be kicked out and all her chances at stardom would vanish as quickly as they had come. So, she collected her anger and took a deep breath.

She wiped the episode from her mind and went outside to wait for Blaine. She could rant all she wanted when they drove back to her estate in the cab. He often seemed amused by her hidden anger and normally just allowed her to vent. She had never had a friend like that before so she was grateful for his company.

She sat herself down on the steps and waited…and waited… and waited.

Had he really gotten too cozy with his lover to notice the time?

She would have to tease him about that when he came back. When was he coming back? Maybe, she forgot to set a time for him to come and get her? In that case it wasn't his fault, it was hers.

After an hour, she had started making up even more creative excuses and had also attracted a lot more attention. Not many people would be able to identify her at this side of town but most would be able to tell that she was most certainly not from around here. They gathered around, asking for money and Rachel would reply that she didn't have anything.

If Blaine didn't show up within the next ten minutes, she would just signal down a cab to take her home.

What could have happened to make him so late?

She sighed and just stood up. Her body language was enough to send the beggar children running. They didn't want to see what would happen if they angered the strange lady.

Rachel signaled down a cab and didn't even complain when the slush on the street splashed onto her skirts because the cab had stopped so quickly.

"29 Baker street!" She snapped to the driver before he closed the door on her.

The cab set off, quickly the driver hoping that he would get a nice tip for getting her there fast. She slammed the curtains shut and for the next half hour completely ignored the world. Mr. Anderson had some explaining to do and there was no way that she was letting him off the hook for this one.

* * *

Quinn had never been particularly vain. She was always showered with compliments but to be honest, she never did see the appeal. Even sitting in front of her vanity mirror, she didn't see why everyone made such a fuss over her.

She would admit that there was nothing directly disagreeable about her appearance. She was okay looking, there was nothing that set her away from the other girls in the sense of beauty. According to her own judgment, she was average but average never seemed to be good enough. She never seemed to be the person everyone expected.

She could never catch the eye of the one person whose opinion she actually cared about.

She sighed, running her hands through her thick blonde hair.

Why did she never notice her?

That day at the tea party, she had blown it even more. Rachel hated her and she knew that fact very well as it had been drilled into her head for years now. Everyone single time that she tried to talk to her…Rachel's defenses would go up and she'd be locked out again.

_But she's going to be a performer, if she isn't one already._ She firmly told her reflection. _Any sort of friendship would simply back fire on you._

Still, as annoying as she was, Rachel had a way to get under your skin and make sure that Quinn's every thought was directed at her. She had been caught in her web and had no idea- and no desire- on how to escape.

Before she could ponder her thoughts anymore, a knock came at her door.

"Darling, may I come in?"

Her mother let herself in before she had finished the question. She swept into the room, with an air of elegance and absolute perfection that Quinn would never have. She smiled to her and placed her hands on her shoulders.

"See, Quinn how beautiful you are?" She asked. "It's hepatizing really."

She looked up and didn't see it once again. Her eyes were stained red and her skin much to pale making her eyes look piercing. She looked like some sort of evil angel...like a demon. She looked away.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, hoping it would mean that she would leave.

"We have been invited, darling to a formal gala this weekend! The Gunderson's are hosting, you see and we have to make certain that we leave a good impression. After all, you shall be starting your season very soon and the Gunderson's son is really quite the little gentleman!"

"Mother, am I allowed to attend yet? I mean I haven't even gone through the-"

"Please, they won't mind and besides we are due at the palace very soon for that. In just two months, my darling daughter will officially be a woman!"

She drew out her handkerchief and dabbed her eyes.

"Ah, I remember my season like it was only yesterday!" She placed a hand to her heart and stared off into space. "Darling, you will adore it. The dancing, the laughter, the smiles and not the mention all the dapper gentlemen who will be pleased to meet you! It took a lot for me to chose your father, my dear and you shall find the man of your dreams as well. I assure you of that!"

"Mother, does your choice have anything to do with the fact that he owns three plantations in America and controls most of Europe's trades?"

"Well, a girl must live in luxury you know or what would be the point of it all?" Luanne asked. "Now, to bed with you, you must be well rested before tomorrow, I will be taking you to a special little tea party with the ladies. It will be great fun!"

She kissed her daughter good night and with the typical parting words, Luanne left her. The door closed and locked behind her.

Quinn sighed and looked back to her reflection.

What would happen to her if she told her mother, her secret?

That nagging little secret that was always so close to heart that she could never mange to shove it away…Just like Berry. She could never let her secret out, or it would ruin her and any chance that she had at having a life.

"Who am I kidding?" She whispered. "I have no life."

* * *

The headlines were all over the newspapers the next day. It was to be expected, of course. When a man of high status just up and disappears, people will talk. The gossip columns were full, full of lies.

People were saying that he killed himself.

People were saying that he had gotten what was coming to him, when he was murdered.

Or some said that he had simply disappeared, unable to carry on the role that his father had given him.

Rachel did not know the truth. But the fact that these people thought that they could gossip- of all things!- of her best friend's fateful end then they had something else coming to them! She knew that she just had to find out the truth, no matter what it took.

No matter if it ruined her own life, in the process.

Blaine was worth so much more than what these people were saying about him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_2010, somewhere outside of London_

"Hello?" Kurt called. He had dropped his bags by the entrance to the estate. The gates that surrounded the home, were so high that he couldn't see the top of them from where he was standing. They were old fashioned, gothic style metal rungs that gave him the feeling that he was in the middle of an 'Adam's family' movie. He half- expected the gate to start shaking against the locks and for Wednesday to come and threaten to steal his soul...That would be an improvement over standing here.

Then he noticed something. The lock was not completely shut. He dropped his carry on and tugged on the lock, grinning happily when it opened for him. He removed it and pushed open the gates, easily.

He shrugged. _I guess, she really must not be expecting intruders then,_ He said to himself.

He grabbed his bags and started walking. Each step brought a little bit more of the actual house into view. It resembled 'Casper' more than the 'Adam's family.' The house was done up, in a beautiful gothic style however, the grounds were not very well kept.

The grass was overgrown and the weeds and climbing wines plentiful. The home looked abandoned, but in a shockingly majestic way. As Kurt walked towards the entrance, something caught his eye in one of the few opened shutters. It was a face, mostly hidden from view in the shadows but still there it was. He looked for a moment, until [He assumed Connie] had left the window. He hoped, she was leaving to let him inside. All he wanted to do now, was sleep and sleep until the summer was all over.

He marched up the porch and using the Lion's head knocker, knocked on the door and waited. He had to stop himself to knock again, reminding himself that she was 78 and didn't move as quickly as she used to. He couldn't help but knock again after 10 minutes…then again after 20. What was possibly keeping her?

"Who you waiting for?"

Kurt just about jumped out of his skin, as he slowly turned around. It was an older woman, with her hair tied back in a loose bun and a pair of old spectacles rested on a crooked nose. She wore a full length blue and white flowered dress that bubbled around her, in an incredibly unflattering way. He noted the army boots she wore under the skirt that were coated in dried mud.

"I think you, are you Connie?" He said, trying not to let his annoyance show through his words.

She nodded. "That be right, Cherub."

He raised an eyebrow at the use of the word Cherub but decided that it be best not to comment.

"I'm Kurt, Burt Hummel's son," he said sticking out his hand for her to shake. She shook his entire hand with surprising strength.

"Hmm, do all your family's rhyme or is it just you two's?" She asked.

"Uh," Kurt muttered.

"Oh, never mind come in come in! You'll have to help me out, tomorrow."

"Oh, doing what?"

"The gnomes have invaded my garden and my pond, Cherub and I'll be needing some manly muscle to help me out and since the ghosts are _useless_…I'll have to turn to you." She said, untying a large skeleton key from around her neck and fitting it in the lock.

Kurt could find many, _many_ things wrong with that sentence but he wouldn't want her to send the ghosts of the house on him so…better to deal with the crazy then provoke it.

"And here we are!" Connie stated, gesturing to the front foyer. "A few rules, before I send you off to your new bedroom. First, do not touch 'The Book'. And second, obey the first rule or risk _death_."

"Um, which book?" He asked.

The walls were lined with bookshelves and he could see more up the grand staircase and down the hallways on either side of him…how was it humanly possible to have this many books? He betted right then and there that this entire mansion did not have one speck of wallpaper. The bookshelves were the wallpaper!

But then again, the foyer did have that fantastic old book smell and used that as an air freshener by the smells of it.

"The Book," she replied. "You'll know it when you see it, Cherub. Don't worry about that."

She stared up the stairs and muttered under her breath, "those damn ghosts making a mess of things again and when I have a guest too."

If Kurt was not already filling out Connie's metal illness report already then he would ask her what size straight jacket she wore. Clearly, someone must live here with her? She couldn't be completely alone, it wasn't healthy.

"Well she was alone except for the ghosts," Kurt muttered.

"Cherub, don't worry about the ghosts. They just like causing some mischief and making me look nuts. Ignore them and hopefully they'll do the same to you."

She clapped her hands together and grinned. "Now, I'm sure you are tired! Your bedroom is on the second floor, third door from the right."

Kurt couldn't help himself. "Any roomies, I should worry about?"

"Just one, but he's a quiet one and won't bother you really." She answered, her face not once leaving a state of complete seriousness.

Kurt wondered if he would be this insane by the end of the trip…was it possible to bedazzle a straight jacket?

"Alright-y then, see you in the morning. To help you with the Gnomes, right?"

After years of dealing with Brittany and her innocent crazy, he had plenty of practice of how to go along with those type of things. Besides, it should be interesting to see what these Gnomes were, he was guessing frogs or maybe a large insect of some sort.

She nodded. "It's a big job, so you'll need all the rest that you can get."

"Okay and by the way how did you get all the way down from the third floor so quickly? Is there a secret back entrance that I should know about?"

Connie crooked her head to the side. "I was never upstairs, I was outside with the Gnomes, remember?"

Kurt blinked. He had been so certain that he had seen someone looking out the window. He had assumed that she had come down through another exit to surprise him.

"I thought I saw someone look out the window," he blurted out.

"Ah, it must have been the one I told you about, the quiet one. He must be curious by you."

* * *

Kurt found the room, fast enough and fell onto the plush quilt faster and fell asleep before he could even take off his shoes. He curled up on the pillows and was soon completely passed out. Connie's words nagged at the back of his mind while he passed into sleep but he shoved them off as absolutely ridiculous.

Still it crept into his dreams anyway.

The feeling that he was being watched, observed even. By those forces that he had always thought only loony birds believed in. But in his dreams he was believing it and it was chasing him. He couldn't move fast enough, he would catch him.

"Hey Hummel," a voice sneered from the darkness.

Kurt's eyes widened. He recognized that voice, of course he did. He run despite not knowing where he was running, it was all black and he couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face.

Then there was a face.

He stopped in his tracks. He was certain that he had never seen that face before but in a way it looked almost…familiar. The face vanished and he was left alone, fighting to escape that darkness that had taken over his life, just months before.

Kurt woke up screaming, not knowing once again that he was being watched from the shadows.

* * *

To say that Kurt was annoyed would be an understatement. He dropped back onto his bed and peeled off his mud coated boots. He was so glad that he hadn't worn his good pair, they would not have survived 'Gnome hunting.'

The Gnomes turned out to be just as he had thought, frogs. Connie seemed so enraged by said creatures invading the pond out back that she had to scare them all off. Kurt had spent the morning making loud noises to frighten them into the brush, just to have them hop back again. This terrified Connie and she forced him to scare them off again and again…and again.

He had only managed to escape when he noted the time and said how hungry he was. She agreed with him and stated: "we'll get rid of the heathens later, Cherub."

Kurt sighed, running his fingers through his hair- _this was going to be one long summer._

_"I will try defying gravity! I think I'll try-"_

Kurt pressed talk on his phone before Indiana Medzel could get to the next line. He wouldn't want to alert Connie of anything, he was hoping that she'd just leave him up here for a few hours so he could…well do something besides scaring frogs.

"Hey, Dad, how's life? I just spend the morning de-gnome-ing the back pond."

He heard Burt sigh over the phone. "_Well I know your aunt's a little-"_

"Crazy, insane, out of her right mind…"

_"Yeah, yeah I know but…I had to make sure that you were safe, Kurt. I wouldn't be able to stand it if you got hurt."_

"I know, I know. I guess I'm a little bit annoyed anyway. This house honestly gives me the creeps. It feels like something's watching me everywhere I go and it's…frightening despite the fact that to prior belief…it's insane." He said, laying down on the quilt.

_"Well, you're there for at least a week. If Connie turns out to be some crazy person then give me a call and I'll book the plane ticket. Just make sure that you help her, catalog some of her books though. There must be plenty of money in that collection…"_

"Dad she uses book shelves as wallpaper and has separate rooms for more special books…my room is honestly stuffed full of manuals for…well everything. It's an interesting collection, that's for certain."

Burt laughed. "_Not sure what to say to that but try to have fun, kiddo and I'll call you later."_

"Yeah, love you."

_"Love you too, Kurt."_

Kurt muttered a quick goodbye and hung up his cell phone. He put it back on charge, on the old dated outlet above the desk. The house did have electricity but it was seriously out-dated to the extent that it couldn't be 100% safe. Kurt was certain that an electrical fire would bring the entire house down, considering the sheer amount of paper and cardboard that was everywhere. Still, he was glad for the limited amount of power despite that it didn't come with internet.

Kurt had set up his notebook and pens on the desk, very neatly. Yes, he did keep a journal and no it was not a diary. He did not- often- draw hearts around people's names inside of it. It was given to him after the 'incident' [As everyone seemed to call it] by Ms Pillsbury.

_"I still keep a journal, Kurt. It helps that no matter what that little book isn't going to judge you and that it will always be there when you need it most. You don't have to write everyday but you should write as a way to vent out everything that you must be feeling now. It will help you get your mind back on track."_

Kurt couldn't understand why people worried about him so much. He was a big boy and could take care of himself…still those memories haunted him and in a way he was glad of their support. Except, when it involved sending him halfway around the world- for his safety.

He sat down, on the high stool and flipped his journal to a new page. He never read over what he had already written. He felt that when he wrote something down, it was definite and didn't need any sort of revision.

_Dear journal,_

_I have arrived, here. I'm still not sure where here is, though. The estate is miles and miles away from air-conditioning and the beloved internet and also my boo Mercedes. She normally would know what to say in a time like this so really I miss her the most. I hope she's doing well, I plan to call her tomorrow morning…finally figured out the time zones…_

_Well, I also spent the morning chasing frogs out of a pond…it was not very pleasant. I'm very glad that I didn't end up wearing my good boots! Despite the designer label they would not have survived the crazy. _

_Speaking of crazy, my aunt Connie is getting worse. She has placed me in a room meant for storing manuals that only has a bed because I think it was an actual bedroom before the How-To books took over. You can see some of the old room through the bookshelves but not much. I think this may have been a girl's room once because of the flowered wall paper behind the shelves. Besides this room, has a subtle smell of rose perfume. I still have not found it's source. There is a hundred year old fire place, though that is actually really pretty and the plaster carvings on the ceiling give the room some character and it's not half bad really. I would kill to bring that bed back with me though. I have already designed my room if I had some of these old fashioned things back home. It would have some charm, I think. _

_Speaking of crazy, I think I might be joining my aunt soon enough. Is it possible to bedazzle a straight jacket? That is the only way I could make one of those things look good… I honestly feel like sometimes someone is watching me. I sound nuts, but it's true. _

Kurt looked up and around the room. He had been so sure that he had heard something. Like a footstep on the wood flooring.

"Anyone there? Connie?" He asked, to the empty room.

He rolled his eyes. All old houses have little noises, like that. It meant nothing and he shouldn't get so worked up over it. But he still glanced up and around him as he finished off his journal entry, muttering to himself about how crazy it all sounded.

* * *

It had taken years for Blaine to come to terms with what had happened. That he had been attacked and murdered and dragged off into the night. He had been certain that he was dead, he had seen it happen. But he had seen it happen from outside of his body.

He had seen the men cover his body with a blanket and carry him like he weighed no one than a sack of potatoes. Shocked, by the display he had fled. He didn't know if they had really thrown his body to the mighty waters of the Thames, to join the other lost souls whose lives had been lost there. Or if he had just been thrown into a trash bin somewhere.

Well neither could be it since he had watched the police search the entire city for him or better yet his remains. He had watched Rachel, so desperately try to find out what had happened to him. She had all the pieces, she just couldn't make them fit. Within the first few days of his death and odd afterlife he went to Rachel, hoping to comfort her.

She lay on her couch, her eyes stained red from worry and sorrow. She held a newspaper in her hands, the top article was Blaine Anderson's mysterious disappearance. He had walked up to her and tried to touch her face, to comfort her and say that he was alright. There was no need for her to worry and that he would find his way back somehow. His hand went straight through her, his eyes widened as he drew back. She shivered and drew her knit blanket closer around her shoulders.

That was when the truth truly sank in. He wasn't going back, he was trapped here, for what felt like all eternity.

He could hardly stand staying in London. The police had given up on him, claiming that it was just another unsolved British mystery to add to the vault.

Every once and a while Blaine would find someone who could see him, most of the time they ended up being complete whack jobs who didn't know how to help him. Blaine didn't know how to help himself, he still believed that he simply wasn't allowed into Heaven for the sins he had committed. For that he was forced to wander the world, in search of something.

That was when he found Connie. Who was a little rough around the edges but was still someone to talk to and he found other in-between spirits like himself living there. Afterlife was good until the day before, when he arrived.

Blaine knew that Kurt could see him.

He wanted to say something so badly but he could never have the courage. Kurt was different and to be honest reminded him a lot of Gavin. He was strong willed and so wildly different that even, he dapper Blaine Anderson was scared to say hello.

Because Kurt didn't believe in him and that was clear.

Well, he would just have to make him believe.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_1854, London, England_

Rachel, if anything was a high achiever. That was the only factor that kept her from screaming her lungs out at that ignorant director who insisted on keeping her talents in the shadows. She would have already broken if it wasn't for the fact that she wanted it too badly to toss it all away on a temper tantrum.

It wouldn't be worth it.

She would have to hold in all that pent up rage until she was the leading lady. Until she was the one that they couldn't afford to lose and would go along with her true sprit so that they wouldn't lose her.

She would just have to hold it all in, until then.

But knowing Rachel Berry she was bond to snap at some point.

But when it came to other things, Rachel would always achieve higher than most. After the news of dear Mr. Anderson's disappearance she took it upon herself to solve the mystery that the Scotland Yard hadn't even started looking into yet.

Which was quite odd considering Blaine's social standing. You would think that Blaine's father would be slightly more interested in figuring out what happened to his youngest son.

Rachel knew that she had to figure it out and she knew just where to start: the hotel where Blaine would meet with his lover and the place where the murder most likely would have happened.

That morning she nicked some men's clothing off one of the stable boys, wouldn't want to look too rich, you see. She busily tied up her long brunette hair and tucked it under the cap, ignoring the dirt and possibly something else stains on it. The trousers and shirt were also stained and ripped on the knees. But Rachel ignored it all, this was just another character to play. She could live with her rugged appearance for the few hours that she would need it.

She sat down on one of the stable benches and stuck her foot into the boots she had managed to find. But it was huge, her foot just barely took up half of it…she had always had small feet.

"No matter," she mumbled.

She tore a piece of her day gown off on the underskirt and stuffed it into both toes. Then, proceeded to tie the laces as tightly as she could so her feet wouldn't slip out…it was far from comfortable. She tied a thick scarf around her neck to hide her lack of an Addams apple.

But this is a character she is playing. She can't be upset about costume issues. She would just have to go with like every other great actress.

To finish it off she rubbed some- what she hoped was- mud over her cheeks to hide some of her natural femininity. She still looked very dainty but then again not every male is a Greek God.

Her old clothes were hidden in the loft to be fetched later and she set out. It felt odd to not have her voluminous skirts swishing about her legs, almost felt like she was naked. For the first few minutes she kept reaching down to hold her nonexistent skirt as she walked over a puddle but eventually she got used to the feeling and instead of feeling naked…she felt…she felt…free.

It was a wondrous feeling and she very tempted to break out into song right there in the middle of the street. But she kept her mouth shut insisting that she didn't need to give up her place.

Her destination was set and the questions that she would ask were formatting themselves inside her highly literate mind. She could do this.

So for the first time she walked like the equal that she was to a man and held up her chin. It must have looked ridiculous to anyone passing by. A beggar looking that proud of himself? Why on earth would he be proud of his lower class?

Why would anyone of that status be pleased with himself to begin with?

But Rachel didn't care what they thought of her. She was on a mission and would complete said mission without too many complications…hopefully. So their opinions of her ritchessness didn't matter.

They never did.

* * *

"Quinn darling, have some tea." Mrs. Gunderson said, with a snide smile.

"Thank- you ma'am," she replied taking a mouse like sip. It is way too warm and it burnt her lip...she pastes on the usual smile to cover it.

The ladies were seated around their little circular tea table, gossiping over the latest scandals and whatnot. It was inevitable that the topic of whatever happened to Mr. Anderson would come up. Luanne made the first quip towards him.

"I mean he is a very rich man you see so why would he have any reason to kill himself." The ladies made noises of agreement.

Quinn normally didn't speak when she went to tea parties or any kind of party with her mother. She was constantly shot down whenever she acknowledged that she did indeed have a voice despite being so young and being so female. But she couldn't help herself, she was still saddened by Rachel's reaction to her the day before. She couldn't just sit idly by and listen to them discuss a man's disappearance or perhaps death as if they were talking about their new Sunday sweater.

"Everyone has a story," Quinn stated. "There was obviously something happening in his life that caused this…or perhaps he didn't kill himself to begin with."

The older ladies were momentarily shocked before Luanne broke the silence.

"Quinn dear, what are you suggesting?"

She couldn't hold back now, she had already started it so she had to finish it.

"Maybe there was a perfectly horrible reason as for what happened. He could easily be floating around the Thames as we speak because either he dove in himself or someone shoved him off the edge, mother. A friend of mine brought this all to my attention and I don't believe that we should be talking about it-"

"Quinn, my love, darling Mr. Anderson was clearly a very troubled man and therefore was weakened by that."

"However if you-"

"Quinn! We will continue this discussion at home, enjoy you cucumber sandwich." Luanne said very forcefully, staring her daughter right in the eye. Quinn knew that look, it was the look that she had feared everyday of her life since before she could even remember.

So she sank a bit lower in her chair and avoided the judgmental eyes all around her. She ate her cucumber sandwich and as usual she hated it. Way to much cucumber and not enough sandwich.

* * *

"Excuse me, sir I'd like some information." Rachel said her deep man voice. It sounded like she had a really bad cold.

The man at the counter looked up from his newspaper and met her eyes.

"What kind of information?'

"The classified kind, sir, she said. I'm an undercover agent for the Scotland Yard and I heard that there might be some ties between this place and the death of Mr. Anderson."

He raised an eyebrow. "Prove it."

She had expected that and had prepared earlier. She pulled a wallet out of her faded trouser pocket. She opened it up for him to see.

"Agent Gregory P Ross at your service," she said.

Saying the name made her fully slip into the character and for a moment she felt like she actually was Gregory P Ross highly ranked undercover agent to the Scotland Yard. A man who was respected but most of all feared.

That was of course…if he existed. She had completely made him up so that no one could track her. It had taken hours to copy the badge and make it look realistic. To add authority she had attached a picture to the left side of the wallet…she wondered now if that had been a mistake.

He took the badge to inspect it. "You don't look exactly like this, sir."

"The magic of disguise sir, now how about that information I mentioned…if you give me what I seek then there will be no trouble here and to your…establishment." She said, trying to not slip character. He was looking her up and down very judgmental like.

'Fine, I shall believe you however sir my duties here are secret. What my customers do here would make them be arrested or even worse their social standing would be tarnished. I cannot just give away information like that."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Sir, do you understand the extent of the situation? Mr. Anderson is not confirmed dead yet, information that you have could save his life! I'm sure that somewhere deep down you have a soul, sir and there you know that telling me the truth would be the right thing to do."

"Mm, yes it would be the right thing to do but is it the smart thing?" He asked. He opened his cigar box and placed a thick cigar between his gritty lips and lit it.

Rachel tried not to let her disgust show. She was straining but she must remain in character. A little smoke couldn't break her.

"Are you proposing money, my good sir?"

"Indeed it is what makes the world go round and it is the only way that I will give up my information."

Rachel angrily sighed but fetched her own pocket money and counted it out for him. She placed a few coins in his hand that seemed to please him, given the wicked smile that passed over his face as he counted them.

"Are you ready to talk now?"

He nodded. "Mr. Anderson came here every week to meet his boy lover, a Mr. Gavin Brown. They would rent a room every week and pay in cold hard bills, sir. I see no disgust crosses your expression by that prospect. You do understand of course that they are breaking the law by meeting here."

She nodded. "Yes, I do and it doesn't matter to me. Love is love and that law is a whole lot of stupid if you ask me. I will not turn either man in for loving because they broke no rule in being in love. However we are not here to discuss my moral values." She stared straight into his eyes, cold and angry. "We could save a man's life here, sir so tell me which room was rented out that day?"

* * *

Luanne never really spoke to her daughter in public. Not the type of speaking that was to be done today, at least. No this was meant for behind closed doors, with the lock turned in.

"Quinn, what did you think you were doing by your little display? We could be knocked down in status if you continue to behave as such!"

Quinn just stood there and took it. She had already given the cut, it would be unwise to rub salt in it.

"You bastard Devil child! Never good for nothing! Why can't you simply sit and be normal for once? Keep this up and I'll arrange for you to marry a man twice your age…I have a few suitors in mind, in fact if you do choose to continue this behavior."

It was one swift movement, so fast that if Quinn had blinked then she would have certainly missed it. Her mother slapped her across the cheek, the force sending her flying to the ground. She didn't dare stand up.

"You will remain in your room, for the remainder of the night. No supper for you and if you even think of leaving then there will be no breakfast either! That should teach you your lesson!" She screamed. "You will end up being no one if you don't follow the rules! They are in place for a reason, darling and you will be ended if you don't follow every last one of them!"

"Oh, and be sure to put some extra rouge on your cheeks." She added, her tone turning sweeter with each word. It looks a bit red. Her mother could really be a great actress…if she didn't think that they were all attention hogging whores.

Quinn remained on the floor, whimpering to herself for an hour after the door had slammed shut behind Luanne. It was times like this when she felt the most alone and the most out of place. She didn't belong here, she never did and never would. She was radiant in an evening gown but then the mask came off and she was just exactly what she was: a terrified little girl who just needs her mom.

* * *

Rachel left the hotel later on, a piece of paper in her pocket telling her everything that he could give her. Including the address of Mr. Anderson's boy lover. A home that she would be sure to visit later on that week.

The owner watched from inside as she walked away [Practically skipping]. He thought to himself, _she is an amazing woman._ He really hoped that she would figure out what had happened to him…after all he had been one of his best customers.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Somewhere outside of London, 2009_

_Dear journal,_

_Called Mercedes today and found out that she is having a super secret summer romance…and she is refusing to tell me who with! Since I have so little to occupy my mind at the moment, I just can't help but obsess over this. She so deserves some summer lovings but she should at least tell me a name…_

"Cherub! Cherub!"

"Can that woman acknowledge for once that I do have a name? I mean she's worse than Sue," Kurt mumbled under his breath. "Mental note: look up the word Cherub."

"Cherub!" She yelled, in a shrill voice.

Kurt sighed and left his journal entry to be finished later. Connie would probably not stop yelling until he at least responded so he might as well get it over with.

"Yes, Connie?" He asked, entering the room across from his. This room was an actual library and most likely where her collection had started since the shelves were actually bolted to the walls. The back wall was covered by a huge window and that was the only place where books didn't dominate. A desk on a raised platform stood in front of it. Connie was sitting on said desk, her army boots swinging back and forth against the tanned wood. She looked like a parody of an 1950s school girl.

"Cherub, I want you to help me catalog my books now." She said, almost sweetly.

"And you had to yell across the hallway because of that?" He asked, raising a pointed eyebrow.

"Yes! This room has all my favorite books in it." She said, looking proudly at the shelves, like they were her own children.

"Is The Book in here?" He asked. He figured that if all her favorite books were in here than the one that ended up getting capital letters because of the way she said it…would be in here also. However the look on her face was telling him different.

She shook her head, frowning as if he expected him to know that The Book was obviously not in here and he should have known that already. That she would obviously have placed it somewhere where it was better protected against the…Gnomes, Goblins and Ghosts, oh my.

"Where is it then? I'm honestly, I'm bit curious and you won't even show me."

Connie frowned and glanced out the window.

"Fine, but listen Cherub if you even breathe on it, then God help me, I'll throw you to the Gnomes!"

The prospect of being thrown into a frog pond by an old lady who looked like she couldn't even lift a paperback book…wasn't all that threatening to him but he went along with it anyways.

He nodded, faking looking scared. "I swear on the collective lives of the cast of 'Wicked' that I will not get anywhere near The Book and only look out of curiosity." He said.

She looked like she was in deep thought for a mere moment before a grin splashed across her wrinkled face and she said, "okay! Follow me Cherub and enjoy looking because you shall never see the likeliness of The Book again and should honestly be grateful that you are seeing it at all. Be warned though, They like to hang out around there."

Kurt was starting to wonder why certain words always seemed capitalized in his mind. He wondered this almost as much as he wondered who, They were.

She led him down the hall. They were passing doors, many doors but not going in any of them. His eyes flew from door to door, trying to find something that stood apart from the rest so he'd be able to find his way back. This house was even bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside. Weird, normally it's the other way around.

Connie turned another corner and then another.

_Maybe I should have left breadcrumbs,_ he thought.

"Here we are, Cherub!" She said, announcing their arrival at…a door painted blue.

"This is my special book room where I kept The Book and some other stuff, too. That is a book doctor symbol, it's a dolphin. I think some Italian man had it about an 100 years ago but I forget his name…Anyways in we go!"

She shoved open the doors and Kurt's jaw hit the floor.

There, defying all rules of science and reason were four transparent people who seemed to be playing cards. They sat around a circular table, but were not touching the seats. One woman stated, "do you have any twos, Lawrence?"

The man across from her replied with a quiet, "go fish."

The unnatural phenomenons were playing Go Fish.

The lady looked up from her game and smiled. "Connie, brought the Cherub."

This seemed to get everyone's attention and they dropped their cards back down on the table to float over to him. Kurt was still stunned, speechless. He only seemed capable of opening and closing his mouth…he looked more like a fish than a Cherub.

Connie piped up, "I told you he could see you! I just knew it."

"Greetings," Cherub, the lady said. "I'm Lady Eleanor Margret Stone, year 1684, France."

Eleanor was a tall woman dressed in a faded silk gown that would have covered her feet, if she had any. Her blonde hair was braided with flowers down her back. She had pristine features and seemed to enjoy to smile.

Kurt managed to blink and that was the only response she got. Eleanor didn't seem fazed by this and just smiled.

"Cherub has never seen one of us before, I can tell." She told Eleanor. She turned back to face him. "Don't worry, child you'll get used to the insanity soon enough."

A man floated up next to her and introduced himself.

"Hello, I'm Lawrence B Oxford, 1946, America. Got shot in the ear, back in the war, see?"

He pointed to the bandage that covered his entire ear and the faint blood stains on it. As if he had just died from over bleeding the day before. His head was shaved and his uniform neat save for a few blood and dirt stains.

"W-wait you mean to tell me that this isn't all some sort of joke?" He stammered out. "I'm not on one of those hidden camera shows and someone isn't going to pop out and shout I GOTCHA! Or something like that."

"Connie, I have no idea what Cherub is talking about." Eleanor said.

"Don't mind him, he's just a bit shook up by it all."

Eleanor nodded. "We shall continue on then, Arthur, Ellie come say hello to Cherub."

Ellie came forward first. She was very young, maybe about ten or eleven. She had her black hair braided in two plaits down her back, tied off with matching blue ribbons. She wore a simple white and blue checked dress. Her skin was olive toned with a light splatter of freckles across her nose.

"I'm Ellie Kelly Brightman, year 1914, Canada. My mum knew that lady who painted all those pictures of us!" She said this very proudly and with a huge smile across her face. "Unfortunately I was out fishing with my dad and fell overboard…well you could guess the rest."

Kurt blinked.

Arthur finally stepped forward. "Arthur Brown Thomas, year 1823, butler to a many fine Lords and Ladies." He gave a small bow, as if to show his worth as a butler. He smoothed out his black tux as he stood up completely and went to join the line of…undead people?

Eleanor stepped forward. "I know this is difficult to understand and that we spirits do not have a very fine history among mortals but I assure you that we literally _cannot_ hurt you."

Kurt did not hear the rest of the sentence as his head had very loudly hit the floor. He slumped on the ground, his face still turned in an expression of shock.

Connie sighed. "Don't worry about him, he'll be just fine. Oh and where's Blaine, by the way?"

Ellie came forward. "Moping as usual, about his long lost love and all that…I don't understand that though, why would he be sad…he has us."

Eleanor smiled and patted her on the head. "Dearest, he misses him and he misses him to the extent that he wishes that he knew where he was. Remember, when Blaine left to try and find him?"

She nodded, her braids bouncing against her back.

"He did that because he really misses him." Lawrence added. "He still believes that the reason they are separated is because of the crimes of their love, at the time. Just remember that love is not a crime, Ellie."

"Why would it be?" She asked.*

"Because Ellie some people are pure unadulterated a-"

"What he means is, some people chose to ignorant and have different morals than we do. Said, morals causing them to do some very bad things."Eleanor quickly said. "But Blaine never did anything wrong besides be in love and that isn't wrong at all."

"Oh, I get it now!"

Eleanor smiled but flashed Lawrence a dirty look when Ellie had her back turned.

Connie was never dull with them around and people wondered why she needed alive people to kept her company…she had all she needed right here.

She glanced at Kurt's still unmoving form and decided that he could see The Book when he woke up. "Deal me in?" She asked.

"Of course Connie," Arthur said reshuffling the cards. "You know who loved playing cards? My charge back in 1813, he gambled half his life away you see-"

He launched into a story that everyone around the table had heard a million times before but was not against hearing it again. It kept Arthur happy and a happy Arthur made a happy household, no matter how odd said household was.

* * *

Kurt was positive that he had gone insane. Clearly this was the only solution since the unnatural transparent beings had switched from Go Fish to Crazy Eights and Connie was acting like this was a completely normal occurrence in her household and it probably was. He ran over all ideas of typical science and overall reason and…according to all that this should not be happening. Then again it was also impossible due to typical reason and normal views of perfection that his hair was still ridiculously perfect even after falling on it.

"Ah, Cherub is awake!" Eleanor announced, loudly.

The entire group turned their gazes to him. He slowly stood up, blinking a few times before pinching himself. They were not going away!

"Why'd Cherub pinch himself?" Ellie asked.

"He's still in shock," Arthur explained.

"You'd better go over the details with him and possibly show him The Book." Eleanor said, without even looking up from her cards.

"Alright then, come Cherub." Connie said standing up and grabbing Kurt wrist [With surprising strength!] and leading him away from the table.

Kurt finally had the chance to take in the room. It was most likely the only room in the entire house that was not wallpapered with book shelves. The back wall had one window, a window seat placed below it. The shelves full of what looked like old journals and older books.

The room was painted a bright blue with clouds dusted over the walls. A large candilleir hung from the roof, providing the only light. On the walls were maps, a few of the entire world but mostly were older maps of countries and were very detailed. One of them even showed Greece way back in Cleopatra's time... Connie was leading him towards a glass case set in the center of the wall, with a label directly above it, it read: _The Book of the Dead._

Kurt blinked, still not going away.

"The Book is a very special book and has been mentioned a great many myths. Most people believe that it doesn't exist but it does and I have it here." She said, gesturing to The Book.

The Book was closed, so it only showed the cover. The cover was a pale pink-white that almost looked like human skin but Kurt was afraid to ask if it really was. Written crudely in black ink, was: _The Book of the Dead by someone who knows._

"Cherub? Still in shock," Connie said. She waved a hand in front of his face.

"So you're not crazy then, if all of this is really real and not some very well planned TV show?" He managed to ask after a moment's hesitation.

"I'm insane, of course. Crazy as the next single woman living in the English countryside with her undead friends and what could possibly be wrong about that? The best people to ever exist were insane." She said, with a shrug.

At the time Kurt didn't really understand what she had said but later on that night, while he lay awake, he thought it over. Albert Einstein was legally bonkers before anyone really thought about what he was saying and realized his genius. Emily Dickenson refused to marry and lived alone for the rest of her life, locking herself away with no one but her dog to keep her company. After she kicked the bucket they searched her house to find a will and what did they find? Poems! Millions of them written about topics that women were not even supposed to know at the time! Lewis Carroll [Or Charles Lutwidge Dodgson] was supposedly on drugs and completely out of his own mind when he wrote one of the most well known books of all time 'Alice's adventures in Wonderland' [Since he thought that it was all real]. Said book went on to inspire movies and other books.

Maybe being completely bonkers wasn't a completely bad thing, after all.

* * *

*Ellie belonged to an Aboriginal tribe that accepted same sex couples and marriages. In fact, her sister married her female lover the year before she drowned. She grew up there never really realizing that the rest of the world didn't agree with her family.

And also for anyone who knows Canadian history...her parents managed to hide her when the people for the residential schools came through. She really had no idea why her parents insisted on playing hide and sneak so often...


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

_London, 1854_

People or to be more specific women were excellent at hiding their true feelings. Secrets were kept and never shared…unless they were someone else's of course. But today Quinn noticed that Rachel's act was down. She wasn't trying as hard to conceal her feelings and by the look in her eyes, she really should be.

Quinn kept glancing at her, out of the corner of her eye and she still looked like she was keeping a secret. It must be a pretty big secret if she looked so worried about it. Miss Berry seemed very deep in thought and even when the conversation turned to her best friend's death…she still didn't respond. She stared into her tea cup, stirring the spoon around and around, ignoring the rest of the world.

Quinn wished that she didn't hate her so. She was so curious that she could feel her emotions bubbling up…Rachel was pulling her in again. Making her care when she really shouldn't…making her care in ways that…would hurt her in the end anyways. There was no use deleing on an illegal attraction. She tried to focus but her mind keep wandering and she knew that she had to figure it out. She told herself that it was to ruin her. To spread that rumor so much that she wouldn't be able to dig herself out of it again.

But she knew that wasn't the reason.

She convinced herself otherwise however. The results would be disastrous if she continued on that path.

"Miss Berry dear, would you mind terribly in joining my family for dinner tonight? My father wishes to discuss business you see…"

It was a lie and it was a very bad one. She prayed that she wouldn't see right through it.

The table had gotten very quiet. The ladies waiting impatiently to see how she would respond, they were convinced that it would be entertaining.

Rachel narrowed her eyes and studied Quinn for a moment. She didn't seem entirely sincere and Rachel could tell that just by looking at her.

"And what, pray tell, does your father wish to discuss?"

Quinn forced a giggle. "Ah, Miss Berry we are only women. What would I possibly know of my father's business? I was told to express the idea to you today and have only just remembered."

"I believe you should know more, you have every right to know where your fortune is coming from. But, yes I suppose I will speak with my father on it."

"Excellent, I do hope to see you tonight, Miss Berry."

"As to you, Miss Fabray…as to you," she replied.

Rachel really couldn't see what Quinn was possibly planning. But she knew that she must be plotting something. Girls like her always were.

* * *

"Father, we have been invited to the Fabray's tonight.?" Rachel stated, feeling the need to get to the point quickly. She had to know how he would react and there was no use putting it off.

Mr Berry was an impressive man. When standing he reached the height of six foot four however even sitting at his desk he seemed huge. His hair was still his natural color, brown and was currently done up in the very latest style. He always kept up with such things. He removed his glasses and folded them on the table.

He looked up to his daughter, who gave a quick curtsy to be polite. Her eyes never left his.

"And why, pray tell, did they not come to me? I am the man of the house and the current owner of most of England's shopping industry. Why could they have not come to me?" He asked, his voice sounding quite bored.

"Because, father they knew that you were working on your new deal today and they didn't want to disturb you and…I was there for tea and they thought that perhaps I could pass on the message." She said, trying hard to keep her voice even. She couldn't show fear in front of him. That was what he was expecting and she couldn't give him that.

"Ah, very well but see to it that this does not happen again. I don't need my daughter acting as a secretary, not while you are under my roof."

"Yes, father."

"Very well, go and prepare yourself for dinner tonight then. We shall be leaving in two hours so be ready by then."

"Yes, father."

"And wear your Sunday best my dear I have a good feeling about tonight and I wish you to look your best. I believe Fredrick is in the city, correct?"

"Just arrived yesterday…from India I heard."

"Very good…very good…perhaps a _deal_ shall be made tonight."

A tight knot of fear formed inside of Rachel's chest. She knew that he couldn't have been talking about his business.

* * *

The maid helped her dress that night. She tugged her corset strings until she couldn't very well breathe but that night she didn't complain. Even the maid was surprised by that. By this time, she was normally ranting about her day and the ridiculousness of modern dress. Not that she could understand most of it, she didn't speak much English.

But today Miss Berry was silent as she dressed her in her very best and most beautiful gown. The fabric was a deep red silk that dipped low in the bodice but was high enough to preserve modesty. Black ropes criss-crossed over her chest and down, ending where her legs began, finished off with a gothic bow.

The maid sat her down and started work on her hair.

"June, do you think my father will marry me off?"

"He have to, at some time," she replied, her accent making the words almost impossible to understand. But Rachel was used to it and could translate.

"I know…I wish I weren't so. Some women of my age are going to America now, did you hear of that? To go to school there…I wish I could attend. Father would never allow it."

The maid didn't try to respond and just went on preparing her hair. Rachel didn't mind, June didn't normally talk to her at all.

She loved London. She adored the city and she loved the theater and she was determined to find out what had happened to Blaine. She couldn't leave but perhaps things were simpler over there and maybe she wasn't a slave in her own home over there. There would only be one way to find out…and her father would never allow it.

He never allowed much in his household.

* * *

It was pure chance that her father tended to be very forgetful. Quinn's father assumed that he had forgotten that the Berry's were coming over and oddly enough declared that he remembered sending them an invitation for dinner that night.

Quinn thought that he just didn't want to look like such a dunderhead.

Luanne caught it though. Just before the Berry's arrived she glanced her daughter's way and that one look proved what their discussion would be after their unplanned dinner gala. Quinn tried her best not to show her fear and managed to conceal her true feelings. Once again as she always did.

She seated herself in her usual place and waited for the Berry's to be announced. She had heard them pull up so it would only be a few minutes before-

The doors opened and the imposing Mr Berry marched in, his beautiful young daughter on his arm. She looked tiny there and even more delicate than usual. Quinn held back her surprise when she saw Miss Berry.

Miss Berry was always beautiful and Quinn constantly noticed this. Probably more than she should. But tonight she looked simply radiant. Like she was about to whisked off in a prince's arms rather than be seated at her dining room table.

She noticed that she had also gained the attention of Fredrick. He was seated to the right of her father but their conversation had stopped when their guests entered. His eyes widened a bit and Quinn knew that he was picturing the Miss Berry he had last seen.

The young six year- old girl, who hid behind her mother's skirt the very first time that they had come for tea. That was not the girl here. No that little girl had not had this almost delightful power in her step. The type of power that was odd to see on woman who was virtually being sold on an auction tonight. Her eyes shining in defiance and her chin held high, her back cane pole straight.

"Welcome, Mr and Miss Berry." William said, from his place at the head of the table. "So glad you could make it tonight and might I say that Miss Berry you look absolutely stunning tonight."

"Thank- you, sir." She replied, her facial expression not once changing. She remained hard as stone even when Fredrick kissed her hand before pulling out her seat for her. A normal girl would have been flustered, perhaps even add a sly comment about how a gentleman like Fredrick was. But she didn't which surprised Quinn's parents.

Quinn could only imagine the thoughts going through their heads.

_"She seemed obedient enough but what with that look on her face? Could it be that she had a brain?"_

Or even._ "Maybe she's not worth it if she won't even comment ladylike comments."_

Mr Berry noticed this and sprung into a conversation centering around his daughter's apparent many accomplishments. Her many ladylike and obedient accomplishments. He left out everything that might point towards her true nature and she still didn't argue.

Had she accepted her fate already?

Without a fight…that wasn't the Rachel Berry that she knew. She must have a plan…to run off to be an actress or to take the next boat out to America and go to college there. Something…anything…

It was obvious what their parent's intentions were and for some reason…it broke her heart. Rachel deserved someone who would look at her as more than a piece of meat and took her opinions to heart in every way. Quinn wanted to be that someone. She wanted it so much that sometimes she couldn't sleep with the thought of Rachel belonging to someone else.

Even though, she could _never_ belong to her.

It didn't stop her from wanting. She wanted- no needed- to tell Rachel how she felt even if she thought of her as disgusting and witchy. She just had to know…and she had to see Rachel happy because she was not happy now and that fact alone broke her heart more than anything.

* * *

The men had gone into the sitting room to smoke and drink their whiskey that the women were not allowed to have. The three women left out of their little party were gathered in the other sitting room.

Rachel was sitting on one of the couches, her back still rigid answering Luanne's questions as if she was applying for a job and in a way she was.

"Do you say your prayers every night, Miss Berry?"

"Of course, how else would He hear me?"

She lied but Luanne didn't catch it. She thought up another question [Such questions must have been prepared before they even arrived].

"Very good, darling, now tell me, did your father ever think of sending you to school?"

Rachel offered a fake smile. "No, I have been taught at home by my governess and before that by my mother. I believe I have all I need of an education without attending some posh finishing school."

"Hmm, I see and what types of things did your mother used to teach you…before she…um...died." She asked, curious. Rachel had to choose her words carefully or the scandal would be all over the papers by the next morning.

"My mother is a wonderful woman, Mrs. Fabray and she taught me everything a girl could ever need to know and more. She believed in more than most people of her age."

"And what could you possibly mean by that?" Mrs. Fabray asked, a little too eagerly. She was hoping for a new topic to gossip about the next day at tea. Quinn sat on the edge of her seat, waiting for her response.

"She believed that the role of a woman should not be chosen for her and should not be limited to knitting tea cozies and making small talk with people who make her stomach turn." She met Luanne's eyes and said to the shock of both women. "I will not be marrying your son, Mrs. Fabray."

"W-what?! You could gain plenty from a marriage to my-"

"I would not, gain a cent and do not wish to test it. The only way that you'll make me say 'I do' would be at gunpoint." She said, her eyes were blazing in defiance.

"That can be arranged," Luanne snapped. "You little brat, daughter of a whore-"

"And proud of it," she said with a smile and a saucy wink.

Luanne was flustered and angry, not certain how she should react. She stood and left in a huff without another word.

"That was very brave," Quinn said once she was able to find her voice.

"Thank- you and without insulting you…your brother makes my stomach turn. He is disgusting and the very idea of being with him…"

She laughed. "I'd probably kill myself on the wedding night!"

Quinn laughed along. "He is a bit of a dunderhead, isn't he?"

"Yes he certainly is, Miss Fabray."

The formality was annoying her. Everything was always so formal, why did a conversation with a girl her own age have to be?

"Please, call me Quinn. I-I would prefer it."

"Call me Rachel then," she said. "I would prefer it as well."

Quinn smiled. "As you wish, Rachel."


	8. Chapter 8

**Late I am so sorry! Also I do not own anything and also...feel free to leave a review if you like my story...would like me know that people are actually there...**

* * *

Chapter 8

Kurt's life had taken an interesting turn. He had been sentenced to at least a week, if not an entire summer, to a giant estate right smack dab in the middle of nowhere to stay with his aging Aunt Connie. He had entered a mad house, where being undead was…just another Tuesday and you were accepted with open arms. He found himself falling into the flow of said mad house and starting to somewhat understand this unbelievable situation and continue to question everything that he had once known.

He found himself one day sitting down with Eleanor and simply talking. It was certainly strange but he was getting used to strange. He spoke to her in French even and she seemed very pleased about speaking in her native language.

"What was it like, when you were alive?" Kurt asked. "I did a project once on that era and am a bit curious."

She sighed. "Yes, of course you would be, darling. Well, it wasn't all that pleasant and I guess I'm lucky that I was born of noble birth or it would have been much worse. My father was a very tradition sought man and insisted that we follow every single one of those traditions…despite how…odd they may be."

Kurt cocked his head to the side.

"My father promised me to a man that was…absolutely appalling and horrid. I had no desire to be in the same room as him for longer than what was polite…then even, pray tell marry him! But my father insisted and I ended up marrying him anyways."

"But you would be miserable," Kurt commented.

"Yes, but I had just about the same amount of power as a cow has against being milked. But what I did have control over, however was how long exactly I would be married. I killed myself on the wedding night and left a note for my father saying how he should have given me a choice and perhaps then I would have done something useful with my life."

"Eleanor you were probably one of the first badass Feminists to ever exist." Kurt replied, with a smile.

She laughed. "Of course I know that! There was just no telling my father, of that though, unfortunately. Looking back, I think of myself as a bit childish, I could never tell my father how I felt in person. I am not even certain that he would have listened, really. I didn't stay in France long so I guess I'll never know."

She glanced out the window and sighed. "My father never agreed with anything or anyone but how was I to know whether or not he'd agree with me?"

"You probably did the right thing, Eleanor. That's what I would have done."

"Indeed but modern society is much more accepting of people who are different than what my mine was." She said.

"Well there's still a long way to go on that one," he mumbled. "I can't even legally marry in half the world…not that there is anyone who would want to anyway."

Eleanor smiled, sadly. "We're getting there, Cherub, we're getting there."

* * *

"

"Dad, I just said that I would like to stay the entire summer. Did you not hear me the first time?"

Kurt asked, through the phone.

_"What changed your mind, Kurt? I mean you were ready to swim back to America a few days ago."_

He smiled. "Well what can I say? Connie's not as crazy as everyone thinks and I actually enjoy it here despite the fact that I have to go and dispose of the Gnomes again today."

_"Gnomes?" _He asked.

Kurt could feel him raising an eyebrow through the phone and had to stop himself from laughing at the thought.

"Well actually frogs but still it's kinda fun as long as I don't wear my good boots and my stretch skinny jeans. Oddly enough, I like it here and am having fun cataloging all her books and trust me she has plenty of those."

Kurt had started writing down the lists of books and their sell prices [Prices he got from a book catalog that Connie has explaining how the prices differ from one type of book to another and how age counts and…]. Connie was living in a very large fortune that could pay for all his college costs, buy a sea front house, a vintage car and then some.

Kurt had let his mind wander to what would happen if she included him in her will. He wouldn't ever have to work again, with all that money! Then he would hit his own wrist and mutter, "Bad Kurt, bad Kurt, selfish Kurt." He didn't realize until later on that he was quoting Dobby, the free house elf.

_ "Alright-y then, bud. Have fun and text Mercedes she attacked the house earlier demanding that you call her…something about…summer lovings?"_

"Ooh so she's finally going to tell me who this mystery guy of hers is! I've been dying to know ever since I got here. I'll call her later dad."

A crashing noise was heard from downstairs, followed by Connie screaming. Kurt had a feeling that someone knocked over a bookshelf or something. How ghosts could do such a thing was another mystery to him, he'd have to bring up the topic with Connie.

_"What was that?!"_

"Oh nothing, maybe one of the Gnomes got inside, gotta go Dad bye!"

Burt had hardly said goodbye when Kurt hung up. He left his phone on the bed and rushed towards the grand staircase. Just as he had thought, Ellie had knocked over a book shelf and apparently it was a really important one. Eleanor was comforting her while Connie remained livid.

Kurt ran down the stairs. "Connie, what happened?"

"Ellie knocked over the bookshelf and nearly crushed me!"

"I-I didn't mean to do it," she sobbed. "I was trying to find, The Secret Garden and it wasn't there."

"Eleanor can you go and get The Secret Garden out of the third bedroom from the right on the third floor, the door is labeled 1900s fiction/non-fiction." Kurt asked, politely.

Eleanor did as she was told and came back within seconds with the desired book. It was interesting how quickly they could move…another topic to bring up later on.

Ellie moved forward without being told and lifted the book shelf back into place. Kurt and Eleanor helped her stack the…driver's Ed manuals back into place.

"There," Kurt said rubbing the dust off on his black jeans. "Now what do you say Connie?"

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Good and Ellie?"

"I'm sorry, Ms Connie! It won't ever, ever happen again!" She promised.

Connie nodded. "I'm going to go for a walk." She declared and marched out the front door.

"Don't worry about her, Cherub she's just upset that all her books are going to be sold soon." Eleanor explained. "Her books are most of her life and she probably misses that."

Kurt nodded. "Well, ladies I'm headed to the roof, going to see if I can get a better signal from up there."

"Who is he signaling?" Ellie asked, as Kurt walked away.

"I have no idea," her older friend replied.

* * *

Holding his cell-phone tightly Kurt sat up on the roof right next to one of the many chimneys. How many fire-places could this place have anyway? He pressed speed dial number three and waited while it rang. Mercedes picked up on the first ring.

_"I'm calling you from the future for a pressing announcement." _Mercedes said before he could even say hello. Kurt smiled.

"Finally going to tell me who this new boo of yours is?"

_"Yes but only if you can keep it an absolute secret and not tell a single soul even your crazy aunt Connie."_

Kurt laughed. "How exactly would my telling Connie affect you?"

_"She might learn how to use a computer and then proceed to ruin my life."_

'Ooh, someone's having a forbidden love story! I'm jealous," he admitted.

_"You'll find someone boo, maybe at that rich boy school…Dalton Academy that you're going to next year," _she said. "_I hear there are plenty of cute boys in blazers over there."_

"'cedes you're getting off topic! I demand to know who your forbidden love is."

_"It's Sam alright!"_

Kurt blinked. "Sam?'

_"Yes Sam, that's what I said."_

"Sam as in Sam with the lemon juice hair who speaks Avatar blue people talk? And whose sexuality we've both been questioning behind his back for almost a year?"

_"Yes that Sam and he's really sweet and romantic and possibly Bi but I don't mind that one.' _She giggled. "_It's just like Sandy and Danny."_

Kurt thought on that a moment. "Who's Sandy and who's Danny, then?'

_"Kurt!"_

"Sorry, couldn't help myself with that one."

_"Well in that case, I claim being Danny. Never really liked Sandy that much, she's a little too-"_

"Blonde?" Kurt offered.

Mercedes laughed. "_There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz. But of course I'll care for Nessa," _she sang into the phone.

"But of course, I'll rise above it!"

"For I know that's how you'd want to respond, yes. There's been some confusion for you see my roommate is-"

_"Unusually and exceedely peculiar and all together quite impossible to describe-"_

"Blonde!" Kurt stated.

They both laughed. "_Ah, boo I miss our improve performances."_

Kurt smiled sadly. "Same here but I'll be back at the end of the summer, don't worry. And you get back to your summer lovings and be sure to tell me everything!"

_"So you're okay with it?"_

"He makes you happy so why wouldn't I be?"

_"Aw, aren't you the sweetest. Call me tomorrow okay?"_

"Sure thing, I'll let you know if things get more exciting around here."

_"Alright_, _look forward to hearing that, bye, bye."_

"Bye!" Kurt said, pressing off.

He wished that he could tell her about all the crazy happening around there. But he was certain that she would never believe him. He didn't even believe it until he saw it with his own eyes so she was completely hopeless in that understanding.

He slipped the phone back into the pockets of his jeans and looked out onto the courtyard. Connie had a decent piece of land, a couple acres, the usual size for a small farm or orchard. But Kurt being the city boy that he is, looked out and thought that it looked like the entire world. He was so used to having a square of land with other squares of land around it that he had never really noticed how beautiful land could be, despite how unkempt the grounds had looked from the ground. All that way up and the courtyard looked almost…oh, what was that word…

"I always thought it looked better unkempt," a voice said from behind him.

Kurt nearly jumped out of skin. He didn't recognize the voice. The spirit came and sat down next to him.

"You scared me," Kurt said.

He smiled. "Yeah, I sometimes get that reaction from mortals."

"Oh, no that's not what I meant…you just snuck up behind me." Kurt frowned. "I haven't met you yet, I thought I'd met all of Connie's…friends."

'I tend to kept to myself but I thought I'd say my welcome. I'm Blaine Theodore Anderson, 1854, England, London to be more specific."

"Well, I'm Kurt but everyone here seems to like to call me Cherub…I'm from Lima, Ohio."

"Pleasure to meet you, Kurt," Blaine said, he tipped his hat in Kurt's direction.

It was strange, Kurt had once thought that the word gentleman had been removed from modern world's dictionaries but then again Blaine wasn't from the modern world so he probably didn't get the memo.

"You as well, you as well," Kurt mumbled.

Then he got stuck. He didn't really know how to make casual conversation with an undead person. Would it be polite to ask him how he had died or what life had been like way back when? Kurt figured something really bad must have happened for him to sit around moping all day and the fact that he had introduced himself when no one else was there…

"So, Blaine…you've been to London…has it changed much since you…were…well-"

Blaine smiled, for the first time in a while. Kurt just brought it out of him.

"Well, fashion is different now, he said. And the Thames isn't as…dirty as it was before and women have votes now. When I was alive, things were different and a lot more close knit than it was now."

"How so?" Kurt asked, genuinely curious.

"One thing said at a tea party between ladies could ruin a man's life. For instance, there was this man, Mr. Gunderson who was caught with a French opera singer. That gossip ruined the poor man and he wasn't even…involved, I'll say."

'Wow, sounds like high school."

Blaine narrowed his eyebrows. "High school," he asked.

Kurt nodded. "Yes, trust me on this one we have plenty of drama. It's ridiculous how much drama…drama…drama we have. Well life's never boring though."

Blaine nodded. "Nice meeting you, Kurt.'

"Same to you," Kurt said with a smile. "We should talk more often."

"Yes, perhaps," he said. "Excuse me, I'd better go now."

He left without another word, disappearing as quickly as he had come. Kurt narrowed his eyes, was that all he had to say? Everyone else had at least been somewhat friendly to him…what could have happened to him?

* * *

Ellie saw Blaine float through the ceiling and head down the hallway. She remembered that Kurt said he was going to the roof and Blaine had just come from the roof…memories of the previous conversations came back to her. Blaine hadn't talked to anyone…in well forever [And that was a long time for a spirit!] and suddenly Kurt comes along and he is coaxed out of his silence?

Ellie cocked her head to the side and wondered on that for a moment.

Her eyes brightened and her lips curled into a smile.

Maybe Blaine fancied Kurt.

Maybe if they fell in love then Blaine would come out of the attic more often.

Maybe he would even play Go Fish with them!

This thought was so exciting that she had to zoom off to find Eleanor. She just had to know who Kurt spoke with today.

She glanced back and Blaine had already disappeared, like he was prone to doing. She sighed, sometimes Ellie wished that he would come play with the others.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

After that they were never separated. Quinn had started to sit next to Rachel during their required tea parties. They only ever spoke to each other and it confused the other ladies. When had they become friends…when normally they were not even civil with each other? They didn't care much about what they thought.

Rachel found it strange how much she had in common with her new companion. She had always absolutely hated her, with a burning passion most days. She had always seen her as two sided and both of those sides always focused on herself. That was how she normally acted around other people but not around Rachel.

It took a while but eventually she opened up her.

It started on a breezy fall afternoon, they were taking a walk through the park, their arms linked. They had been talking about the newest fashion craze when Rachel noticed something off about her.

"…Quinn you are wearing an anomalous amount of rogue today."

"Oh, I didn't realize I rose late and must have added too much…"

Rachel stopped and turned to face her companion. She looked her straight in the eye and said, "tell me the truth Quinn. If you don't then I shall be forced to torture it out of you."

She raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I can sing and I can sing at very high pitches…I've shattered glasses before, Quinn. I'm sure it would do wonders to your ear drums if I directed my voice straight into-"

"Alright, alright I'll tell you!"

She wasn't at all afraid of her. However she felt like she needed to tell someone…anyone…of what was happening to her. What had been happening to her for as long as she could remember?

She nervously glanced about the park. There were few other couples walking that day, also a stern looking governess tugging along a naughty three-year old. Quinn was sure that she would love some gossip to keep her mind off her own woes.

"Come, shall we walk, Miss Berry?"

"Yes, we shall, Miss Fabray."

They linked arms again and marched down the pathway and when no one was looking, ducked behind a bush.

"Tell me everything, Quinn," she whispered, laying down and making herself comfortable.

Quinn's heart quickened at the sight and she tried her best not to let her mind wander into those…forbidden areas as she lay down next to her.

She started into her story, not leaving out any details. Rachel gasped, at the right moments and held her hand when she started to cry…the details of her beatings becoming too intense for her. The rogue slipped away because of the wet and Rachel finally saw those bruises along her angular jaw. She suddenly noticed other bruises, lining her arms cleverly hidden with cotton and lace. She could not believe that she hadn't seen it before.

Taking a dose of courage, she turned Quinn's face to her. She wiped away her tears with her handkerchief, not even caring that the rogue was staining the white lace that she had embroidered on there so delicately. It didn't matter anymore.

"Quinn, don't worry your safe now."

She rolled her eyes. "For a few hours, maybe and then I'll be right back there." She blinked back another round of tears. "That's all there is for us, isn't it? First it'll be abuse from our parents then abuse from whatever husbands they force us to marry. There's no escaping it."

Rachel smiled faintly. "Then just leave in today and right now. Remember life right now and our futures- separate or not- shouldn't be so difficult. That is what I do when I am upset…I think about my mother and how she survived it and escaped too."

"I'll try," she whispered.

"Good then, I'll try too."

She kissed Quinn's forehead, the way her mother used to kiss hers. Quinn tried to stop herself from wanting more but she couldn't help it and in a way she didn't want to.

Right now was perfect and she kept that close to her heart. Even when her mother hit her- later on that night- for being late coming back from her walk.

* * *

It was a few days after when Rachel could finally sneak away to visit with Gavin. Her life had become so hectic and now even her father was on her case.

_"Why would you refuse him! Before he even proposes?" He had yelled at her, just the night before. "Do you understand what this marriage could do for our family? You could have a fortune and live in complete luxury-"_

_"That does not change the fact that I don't love him and never will. I shall never marry father and it is my very right to refuse the ceremony."_

_"You are a woman!"_

_"Does that mean that I am not human?" She challenged back. "I have feelings as well as you father and those feelings are telling me that I can't possibly be happy with Fredrick. I have the right to say no."_

Their arguments often went towards feminist rights, a topic that Mr Berry was not very well versed with and also fought against it with every fiber of his being. When she brought out that card, he normally stormed out muttering something along the lines of: why must you curse me with a sinful child, father? What could I have possibly done?

Rachel tried not to think about it when she donned her boyish garb that day. She dressed a little higher for the occasion, trying to look a bit more upper class than before. She dressed in black trousers and a matching overcoat. One of her father's many bowler caps was resting on her head, holding her hair up and away.

She banished her old clothing in the stables, once again and set off. She hailed a cab and asked to be driven to the address on the card.

Rachel had arrived at the home of Gavin Brown. It was a place deep inside the slums and she was glad of her disguise at the moment.

"Thank- you, good sir." She said in her man voice, as she let herself out of the cab. She had never done that before and in a weird way…it made her feel independent. "Keep the extra, sir and perhaps buy the wife something nice."

"Thank you!" He replied. "Are you certain you wish to be dropped off here? It's not the nicest of neighborhoods."

"I am certain, sir and thank you kindly for driving me here and…get that horse some water he looks a bit worn down."

With that Rachel left the cab and headed to the house. The cab driver sped off, heading back to the nicer neighborhoods to locate a good paying customer. The wet sludge that always seemed to coat the streets splashed up as he sped away and wet her trouser bottoms. Once again, she was glad of her disguise.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She could hear voices behind the door, but couldn't exactly make out the words. But she caught a few words: _get, bills, behind, pay…_

The door finally opened and an imposing man now stood in front of her. His head brushed the door frame as he took her in.

"The bills have been paid already," he grumbled.

"I am not here about the rent, sir."

"Then why, pray tell would a high class man such as yourself come knocking up on my door?" He asked, his yellowed teeth showing as he over pronounced each word. It was clear that English was not his first language…but then what was? She couldn't detect much of an accent.

"I am here to see Gavin Brown, I have news from a friend of his."

The man raised an eyebrow. "Gavin doesn't have friends."

"That explains how much you know about him then, sir," she bravely snapped back. "Now, I am not leaving until I get a meeting with him. This is very important."

"Well he ain't here right now. Down at work on the docks, the boys are still unloading the load from New Found Land and are paying good money for his labor."

"Could you direct me to the docks then? I am not from around here and-"

He snorted. "That is about as obvious as my French heritage, sir. Take a cabbie down there…Will take ya anywhere from four to nine hours to get there, eh? Depends on how much you pay the cabbie."

Rachel's eyes widened a bit. She hadn't realized it would take that long! Did she even have enough time to make that journey today? If she didn't today than when would she ever be able to sneak away? Well it was early…she could always provide a distraction for her father…perhaps bribe someone to send some wine his way...He'd be out for days in that case.

"Thank you for your time, sir." She said, before taking off down the road. She didn't know if she could trust that man, but her overall cluelessness about the world around her…caused her think that he couldn't be telling anything except the truth.

A hand landed on her shoulder and she almost let out a girlish scream then she saw who it was.

"Quinn? What are you doing down here?" She hissed under her breath.

"I could ask the very same about you…sir."

"I don't have time to explain, I am meeting an old friend."

"An old friend," She said. "Maybe a secret lover or-"

"Quinn! I will explain everything to you after but come on you'll have to come with me. This is a dangerous area and you are not safe alone back here." She linked arms with her. "If anyone asks, you are my lady and I your lord. That way we won't stand out too bad."

"I still have no idea what is going on." She was very annoyed but her heart beat a little faster at the thought of even pretending being Rachel's lady.

"Are you up for a trip? We'll be in a cab for four to nine hours…"

"Four to nine hours!" She exclaimed. "What?!"

"Quinn, shh you're attracting attention. She hissed. Alright..fine we're going to Canterbury and we're going to lodge there for the night and come back here tomorrow…if you want to come."

"Of course I want to come but…our parents."

"Don't worry about it. I was planning on stopping at the market and ordering some wine to be sent to my father. He's hopeless with alcohol, will be out for days after two glasses. We can just send some towards your parents as well…they won't even see that we're gone…hopefully."

"This is risky Rachel."

"I know."

"We could get caught and never be allowed outside again."

"I am well aware of that."

Quinn smiled. "Count me in, I've got enough on me for two cases, you?"

"For three," she replied.

* * *

In a way this was all very exciting for her. She was breaking every single rule that had ever been told to her and that was beyond exhilarating.

After purchasing the wine and sending it towards their parents- praying this would stall the time enough- they caught a cabbie uptown. The cost for such a trip wiped them both out, leaving them wondering how they would ever get back home the next day. No matter, they would figure it all out when they got there.

Rachel acted as a gentleman and opened the door for her. She didn't catch how flustered this simple act made her as she climbed in next to her. The cab didn't have a front window and after testing it they realized that the cab driver couldn't hear them back there so Rachel lost the fake voice.

It was an awfully long drive and lost plenty of time for talking. They discussed…well everything. They discussed their views on mortality and the latest fashion crazes. But there was one topic that never came up but was always there, just there on the tip of the girl's tongues.

The spark between the two of them that suggested the interest was outside of 'just friends.' That forbidden little nagging voice that screamed: _Just tell her already!_ But they never did because they were scared.

_It could never go anywhere in the long run,_ said another voice.

_Does death both literally and socially mean anything to you,_ it said.

And the most potent one, _what if she doesn't feel the same? _

That question scared them both…sometimes more so than the other points.

So they kept their mouths shut…no matter how much it hurt.

* * *

The carriage driver had managed to arrive a bit earlier than they had expected so they decided to go see if Gavin was still working instead of getting an inn.

She held tight to Rachel's arm and as they neared their destination, she pulled her bonnet down a bit to hide her face better. Her presence here could reach her mother's ears within hours if the gossip addict [That was certain to be present] saw her face directly.

"Good, now Quinn try not to be too disgusted…I've never been to the docks but maybe it's gross…since this isn't first class."

She nodded, obedient as if Rachel Berry was someone that she had to be obedient to.

Besides they were in the slums, she was already disgusted. She had glanced around before and saw the beggars in the streets, holding out their caps for spare change. She could see the group of young women knitting under a street light, using that instead of their own light…that would certainly cost more.

There were also girls down the road, yelling something about freedom and human rights. They had worked in a factory before it had been burned down…taking the lives of more than half their girls with it. They were seeking justice for work that Quinn couldn't even understand.

She had never been down this way. She never really seen the slums in London before and yet she thought that they must be so much worse than this one.

She had never seen the agony for herself before.

It was horrid and there was nothing that she could do about it. She had left her coin purse at home and even then…no money in the world could repair all those lives.

She felt very sick to her stomach and found herself clinging to Rachel tighter. She didn't see the little smirk that Rachel wore. She was very pleased that Quinn was so frightened and was clinging to her, like a daughter to her mother's skirts.

She liked the idea of protecting her.

* * *

Gavin Brown was working on the docks. Rachel was right to trust the man who she learned later was his father. The work was tiresome and had him downright exhausted by the end of each and every day however the money was worth it. He would be able to afford to buy a house someday for his family and they wouldn't have to scrape by on what he could earn with his many, many jobs just to be able to pay rent at the beginning of every month.

So he unloaded the fish, everyday for twelve hours every single day and put the money away for the future. He always thought of the future to keep himself going, it was the only to ensure that he wouldn't break down.

"Good morning, we're looking for Gavin Brown."

Gavin looked up. There were two people talking to his boss, a woman and a very dainty man. He slowed down his work of stacking the fish to listen in on their conversation.

"What've you got to do with 'im?"

"We're old friends of his and were in town for the first time in a few years so my wife and I decided to drop in for a little visit. Only to find that he wasn't home-"the man reached into his pocket and slipped something into his boss's hand- "so we were wondering if he took take a little break…to catch up with what's been going on with the both of us."

The man turned to his wife and gave her a look. She took this as it was and leaned a bit forward.

"We haven't seen him in so long and we do miss him terribly." She said, in a strong French accent. She pouted and turned on the charm. That always worked.

"Alright, alright take all the time you need with 'im. Brown! Come over 'ere!"

Gavin dropped the fish that he was currently holding and marched over to the couple. He didn't recognize either of them.

"I'm giving you a little break and you better come back afterwards, Brown I'm warning you."

"Yes, sir!"

"Oi! Green the fish goes on the pile, not on the ground!" He screamed, marching off to punish another worker.

"Come on, Gavin old friend, we have so much to discuss."

"Okay whatever it is that I did…I'm sorry. If I stole something then I promise to pay you back in-"

"That isn't what we were here to talk to you about." Rachel stated, she had dropped her man voice. Gavin realized it straight away.

"Who are you?"

"An old friend of Blaine Anderson and we hear that you were a pretty good _friend_ of his too."

His eyes widened. "Please don't turn me in…I've got a family to take care of and can't afford to-"

"We're not going to turn you in," Rachel stated. "We just want the chance to know the full story behind it all and figure out what happened in his last few months. I want to solve this mystery and you seem to be a pretty important element in doing so. Come let us walk and talk and you can tell me everything."

"And why would I trust you? You're masquerading as a man and that is just as illegal as…my _friendship_ with Blaine Anderson."

"Because my name is Rachel Berry and I'm the one who helped Blaine escape to go see you. If there's anyone that you can trust then it is me."

"Who's this then?" He asked, sharply. "Can I trust her too?"

"I can assure you that I'm good at keeping secrets." Quinn said, confidently. She stood up a little taller. "Your secrets are safe with me."

"Fine…but it's a pretty long story."

"And we've got plenty of time for it…so tell away."

"Alright it all started about a year ago…I was working down on the docks, around this time of year…and…"


	10. Chapter 10

**Late yes, and to that I apologize. I promise after November updates will be regular again. **

**Also do let me know if there are any mistakes or if there is someway I could improve. I love hearing from people so a review would be fabulous. **

**Anyways I own nothing and never will. Besides a few ghosts and an old lady who likes books. **

* * *

Chapter 10

'Eleanor!' Ellie shouted.

She set down the book that she had been reading and left her lap open for Ellie to bounce into. Eleanor wrapped her arms around the younger girl and she grinned so wide that her face might crack.

'Something exciting happen?' Eleanor asked.

She nodded, eagerly.

'Blaine was talking-'

'Wait he came out of the attic?'

Eleanor blinked in surprise. She could only remember talking to the mysterious teenager once and that had been right when had arrived here…that had been nearly fifty years before.

'Yes, and guess who he came out to talk to!'

She wasn't given anytime to respond before Ellie loudly announced exactly who he had been chatting with.

'He was talking to Cherub, Eleanor! Do you think that…maybe…'

'Maybe what, darling?'

'Maybe…they could fall in love and then Blaine-y wouldn't be so depressed all the time?'

She would have to explain it to her there was no chance that she'd just work it out for herself. So Eleanor sighed and tried to sort out the words before she spoke.

'Cherub has his whole life ahead of him, darling and by what I can tell he shall be going places...he is very talented and I know that he'll make it where he wants to.' She explained. 'But Blaine has been dead, Ellie for over two-hundred years and Kurt is moving so fast that he will forget to wait for him and…he will find someone else to love him, someday…someone who is as…'

_Alive,_ she thought but didn't say.

'Special as he is,' she concluded.

'But, Eleanor doesn't love concur all?'

She smiled, sadly. 'Love does concur all, darling just not death.'

Ellie buried her head into Eleanor's shoulder.

'Love will find a way,' she whispered.

Eleanor honestly wanted to believe her but she knew better. Of course she did because she hadn't told Cherub the whole story…

* * *

Kurt woke early the next morning, to the almost alien sound of a truck starting. He blinked his eyes open, still groggy he wandered to the window and looked down to the front door. There was a truck and Connie was out there talking with delivery man. Kurt rubbed his eyes and watched with curiosity as he started unloading…boxes.

Of food and what looked like clothes. Well she must have gotten all her supplies from somewhere. Maybe this truck came every month or so with new supplies and things that she needed. Did she ever leave?

She thanked him and he went back to his truck. Kurt squinted, the man looked a bit frightened. Kurt wondered what Connie could have said to get that type of reaction from him.

He chuckled to himself and went to get dressed. He had already unpacked and set his clothes into the dresser next to his desk. It wasn't a very large dresser, just four medium sized drawers so all his clothes didn't go in there, just the ones that he didn't want to be wrinkled from sitting in his suitcase for too long. He pulled out a pair of black jeans and a thin cashmere sweater.

He was just zipping up his knee-high boots when he heard Connie in the hall. She was speaking with Eleanor by the sounds of it and she didn't sound happy. Curious, he pulled on his other boot and quickly headed outside.

'…Connie, you have a great deal amount of books.'

'You can never have enough books,' Connie protested.

'What about Cherub?' Eleanor asked.

'He'll come with me, of course.'

'I'll be going where?' Kurt asked, leaning on the door frame. He sent them both his signature ice queen glare, not pleased with not knowing exactly what was going on.

'To this simply ridiculous book convention, Connie wants to go to.' Eleanor explained. 'She has enough books and most of these books have been going unread for decades!'

'Oh, shut it, your majesty,' Connie snapped. 'I want to go and I am going. If I have to many books…then so what?! I like getting out every once and a while and that nice delivery man said that there is a book fair about three hours away and…and Cherub's never been to one!'

'Connie, dearest,' Kurt said, sweetly. 'I have been to a book fair before so there you can't use that as an excuse.'

Connie raised an eyebrow.

'Yes, I have, last year I went to one with my dad and it was…small granted but still a book fair.'

Connie smirked. 'You've never been to a real big one then. It's exciting and adventurous and you never know what you might find!'

'I give up!' Eleanor screeched. 'You, Connie bury yourself in books to keep yourself from what is really going on, in that crazy brain of yours! I know you miss him but that is no reason to-'

'Eleanor that is enough, go find Ellie and play Go Fish or something.' Connie waved her off. Eleanor, having truly given up on her, left to find something else to fuel her anger into. Connie however, turned to Kurt and smiled.

'We'll be leaving in two moons, Cherub. Be prepared and don't dare to bring a cent, I'm ridiculously rich.'

'Connie, I'm supposed to be here to help you catalog your books not help you add more.'

'What's one more?' She asked, innocently.

Kurt wondered if that's what she said before she legally became a hoarder.

* * *

After the daily evacuation of Gnomes from the pond, "Cherub" decided to explore his summer home. He had been there over a week and yet hadn't seen every inch of it. For curiosity's sakes, he journeyed through the hallways and for the first time ventured down to the basement. He had expected it to be like every other cellar in every old movie that he had ever seen. However he was quite wrong.

It was damp and it was suffocating to breathe down there but it was also…a home? He had entered what looked like an apartment, from the 1800s and there was another one just like it next door…and another and another. He pulled a string and the old-fashioned light bulb blinked on giving an eerie glow around the apartment. That must have been a newer addition, she reasoned but why would it be needed? It did not look like anyone had been down here in at least a hundred years.

A small bed was set off into the corner next to a night table and a small chest sat at the end of the bed. The rest of the space was taken up by a tiny kitchenette and a dresser. Kurt being curious wandered towards the bed. He heard a loud crunch coming from under his foot, he leaned down and saw that he had stepped on a picture frame.

The glass was shattered so he brushed it off and took out the photo. It was a picture of a young lady, a brunette with brown eyes that flashed brilliantly under the camera lights. They were the type of eyes that caught everyone's attention, no matter what was happening. Her face was small, yet cute. Not perfect [Her large nose] but as close as one could get. There was something familiar about that face, Kurt couldn't put his finger on it but there was something that he recognized about her.

He flipped over the photo and read the name there, written in beautiful calligraphy was: _Rachel Barbara Berry._

Lower down the photo another message was printed in different hand-writing was: _I love you- R_

Kurt blinked, Berry…Berry…

He knew that name.

* * *

**The next day**

'Blaine-y!' Ellie called out, as she entered the attic.

Morning, Ellie, Blaine replied, glancing outside. The courtyard was still as unruly as usual, from the distance he could see Kurt and Connie scaring that morning's Gnomes from the garden. Kurt was laughing. He squinted his eyes and noticed that Connie had fallen completely into the water, with energy that didn't make sense for her age she sprung up and splashed Cherub. He shirked but splashed her back just the same.

Blaine smiled.

Kurt in a way reminded him so much of Gavin. He had been just as free spirited as Kurt was, so carefree on the outside…but inside was a whole other story. Gain had been bloody terrified that someone would find out his secrets [Yes there was more than one] and most importantly the true nature of his relationship with Blaine. He was always so happy when they were together but Blaine noticed that he turned into a whole other person entirely when they were apart. He was terrified…of himself.

Blaine wondered if Kurt had that side to him as well.

'Why do you stay up here all the time, Blaine-y?'

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and focused his gaze on Ellie.

'Darling,' he said, 'I am lonely so I-'

'Then why don't you join us today, we're going to play this new game that Cherub brought with him, he called it 'hot and not' and we play it with his magazines! It's a lot of fun.' She said, cheerfully.

Blaine sighed. 'Ellie, I know you probably don't understand but I can't move on from what happened in my life. Gavin was my entire world, how can I possibly move on from that?'

She paused then spoke in complete seriousness, 'Blaine, maybe you need a new world. Give us a chance and you might just surprise yourself.' She shrugged.

Ellie rushed off so quickly that Blaine didn't have the chance to reply back but he still thought on it. Maybe, he had mourned long enough. Maybe, he could be happy here and maybe he could have real friends.

He glanced down. Cherub and Connie had shoed away the Gnomes and were walking back towards the back door, laughing and talking the entire way.

Maybe, Blaine could open his heart.

Maybe, just a little.

* * *

Kurt was worried about Connie.

That factor was obvious and it showed. While he instructed the group on how to play 'hot or not' it nagged at his brain. Connie was crazy, that was a proven fact and couldn't be argued even by the most intelligent sociologists. But what had drove her to it? Why does her book collecting help that? Who was the man that Eleanor mentioned?

So many questions and yet so little answers…

'Cherub, these women are showing their ankles.' Arthur stated, pointing to a photograph of a red-head model in Kurt's copy of last month's Vogue.

He nodded. 'Style has changed since you graced the streets of New York City,' he said. 'People like to stand out and like to be viewed as different, I for one pride myself on standing out.'

'Why?' Ellie piped up, looking up from her copy. The others had also looked up, clearly awaiting his answer.

'Because there is absolutely no use in fading into the shadows in my opinion. If you want to get anywhere in life then you have to issue confidence in what you do and I try to do that despite how difficult it may be.'

'Amen to that,' Connie said, with a laugh. 'I'm nuts and proud!'

Both the living and the dead chuckled at this but still returned to their game.

Perhaps it was the way he had worded it or maybe the sigh he let out when he said the word: Confidence that showed Eleanor that he had anything but. That he just faked it, all of it. Just to get by…she smiled, her and Cherub had more in common than she had originally realized.

A few minutes later, Blaine entered via the ceiling. The entire group, was beyond shell shocked by his appearance. He awkwardly sat down next to Kurt and asked: 'So how do…you play?'

Kurt smiled. 'It's easy, first you flip to a random page and then choose a picture then you just decide on whether it is a good outfit choice for that model or if it could be improved. See, this one-' he pointed towards a brunette wearing a long ball gown type dress, made from red silk with an overly large pink ribbon under her bust- 'think this is hot or not?'

Blaine studied it for a minute. 'The bow is too big for the simplicity of the dress and the color makes her look very pale and her makeup is piled on too heavy as well.'

'I agree, she'd look better in winter colors if you ask me.'

Blaine nodded. 'And the dress itself is a bit long, I think it would look better if it reached just below her knees.'

'Blaine Anderson, you have been awarded with the title of fashionable and that is a pretty big title when it comes from me. Now, what about-'

Ellie kept peeking up over her copy of April's Vogue every few seconds. She had never been in love but she knew what the early stages looked like. The smiles and mutual talking…

Maybe, just maybe they would fall in love and Cherub could stay with them forever, no matter what Eleanor says.

* * *

**Convention day**

_Dear journal,_

_Well, things are once again, strange but oddly enough not unwelcoming. Scaring away frogs from a pond that was clearly their home for generations…is actually a lot of fun now! The fact that I daily play card games with people who have been dead for at least 50 years…that fact seems completely normal now and just fits right into my always crazy life._

_I have no idea how I'm going to be able to leave it all. Despite the oddness of this place, I find that I'm actually going to miss it. I mean, my life was never normal but it will never be anywhere close to normal once I return home. Le sigh, I guess I'll just have to deal with it all._

_Well, journal I'd better leave, Connie wants to get on the road in ten minutes to get to this book fair that she's dragging me to. I've never been and honestly am a bit excited, but am mostly worried about Connie. I am determined to find out what processed her to become a hoarder and separate herself completely off from the world. I mean, she must have decided one day: I don't want to live here anywhere and just left…right?_

_Well I must find out and also find out if the name Berry traces back to Lima…I'm curious about what I found the other day and wish to investigate._

_I have way to many things to be curious about at this point…_

Oh well, at least it keeps life interesting.

Kurt set down his pen and sighed. He really, really hoped that no one ever found this journal, they would think him insane if anyone were to read it…wait, maybe he was insane anyway. He laughed at that and went back to packing, they would be gone for three days and Kurt's plan was to try to get Connie to not spend her entire fortune [Still unsure where she got said fortune from] on more and more books that she really doesn't need.

She didn't even read the books, really.

Kurt had never seen her pick up a book, in the entire two weeks that he had been there. Not once, he did see her do more than dust the shelves and help him catalog them by counting them…then losing her place and starting again and again. If she didn't even read the books then what use did they have?

He was determined to find out.

* * *

To his surprise Connie did own a car and to his absolute shock, she knew how to drive it. The car was an old one but seemed like it was well taken care of…once. A long time ago someone had driven that car and cleaned it and repaired it himself or herself and that someone had painted it neon green. He suddenly imagined the Scooby doo gang driving around in it, coming to solve the mystery of…why frogs had to be shooed out of a pond everyday. He had to bit his lip from laughing at the thought.

Kurt helped pin down their bags in the back of the 1950s pick-up truck.

'Neon green's an interesting color for a truck,' Kurt said, hoping that it would bring something up.

She smiled. 'Yeah, I always thought so too. Come on Cherub we have a long drive ahead of us and this radio doesn't work…so it'll be even longer.'

Kurt didn't hold back his groan at that. Connie didn't seem to notice when she climbed in the front seat and revved the engine. The truck slowly sputtered forward, groaning as loudly as Kurt when it realized that it had to move. Kurt took out a copy of 'Jane Eyre' and propped it open on his knees, this was going to be one long drive.

* * *

**Reviews please!**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The trio had located a small café that wasn't too full and wasn't too shabby. Gavin took an extra long sip of his coffee [He hadn't had a drink all day] before starting to tell his story again. They hadn't wanted anyone to overhear them so Rachel had stopped him and they set out to find somewhere to talk.

"Alright, here goes. I met Blaine last year, the fishermen had just come in from Newfoundland with a load even bigger than this year's. I was working to help unload it all and that was when he walked in and went to go speak with my boss. He told him that he was seeking temporary employment."

"But Blaine is of the high class," Rachel interjected. "Why would he need a low class job?"

"He told me that he needed something to do. He was beginning to get bored with everything and needed something to…distract him from current situations."

Rachel nodded for him to continue.

"Well, my boss assigned him to me for training and…as cheesy as it sounds…it was love at first sight. We got to know each other better and shared our secrets. And by the end of the season when the job ended…I told him that I loved him." He whispered that last part but had no need too as there was no-one else in the café.

"Aw," Quinn sighed. "What happened next?"

"Well…we started…um….seeing each other and I guess Miss Berry here helped out with that. We would meet once a week at the hotel way back in the slums."

"It was during my theater rehearsals," Rachel said. "We would drive out here and he would drop me off at my rehearsal before going to meet you. It was the perfect arrangement."

He nodded, "I see. He has spoken about you…he said that you were the best friend that he had ever had."

Rachel blinked back a few tears. "I miss him, terribly."

"As do I, Miss Berry. As do I."

There was a brief moment of silence before Rachel asked, "that day that he was...that he disappeared…where were you?"

"I was supposed to meet him that day but…my boss at one of my many day jobs was acting strange and he insisted that I stay back a few more hours. By the time I could leave it was about half an hour after I usually meet him. I was praying to myself that he wouldn't be angry with me as I rushed to the hotel. But when I arrived…he wasn't there. I didn't think much of it at the time…I just thought that maybe I had gotten lucky and he also running late so I wouldn't end up getting in trouble for it. But…he never came…even Bobby said that he had already been here and he hadn't seen him leave…I was worried and ended up going to the police and that's how the story first got out. They couldn't find him so it was safe to assume that he…that he had been murdered."

"Does the hotel have a back entrance?" Quinn asked.

Rachel glanced over to her, impressed by her deduction skills. Quinn blushed.

He nodded. "Yes, but next to no-one ever uses it…I'm pretty sure it's always locked."

The blonde nodded, thinking on what he had said.

"Thank-you Gavin for telling us this…I'll contact you if I learn anything more about it."

"No thank-you," he said.

* * *

"

It was not very late once they had left the docks. So they managed to con Gavin into giving them cab fare home. It would be better to get there really early rather than late they supposed. Both girls were still hoping that their parents had not noticed their absence. Rachel hailed a cab and they were off within half an hour.

After checking the sound in the carriage, Quinn asked a question that had been eating at her ever since they had left Gavin behind.

"Do you think that we can even trust him?" Quinn asked.

"Mr. Anderson trusted him, I don't see why we can't," she replied.

"True…Rachel, can I help you figure it out? You really can't do all this on your own-"

Rachel smiled. "Of course, you can help. I thought we had already agreed on that when I brought you along to the docks…I mean if I didn't want your help then I would've told you to get a cab back and possibly have given you the money to do so."

She laughed.

"Good then I'm in, we'll crack this case wide open before the Scotland Yard realizes what hit them."

"That we will do, Quinn darling," she said with a grin. Rachel playfully tapped the blonde's nose as she laughed.

The laughter eventually faded away and Rachel asked a question that Quinn had not been expecting at all, "will you come to my performance tomorrow? I mean all I have is four lines…and one of them involves screaming but it would be nice to have someone there to watch."

"I'd love to," she replied without a second thought.

"Fantastic! Okay, it's tomorrow evening at seven o'clock and will end at nine…think you can make it?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

Rachel's face lit up and she flung her arms around Quinn. The blonde was a bit hesitant at first but after a moment of shock she wrapped her arms around her. She'd never been hugged before.

It felt…nice.

There was no way in hell that she was missing that damned show.

And yes, little miss high mannered blonde princess just swore twice in her mind and at the moment didn't even care. She was going to that show…no matter what it cost her.

She just might have to sell her soul for this.

And she knew exactly who she would be selling it to.

* * *

It was a bloody miracle and that was all Quinn had to say on the subject. She had arrived with only a few minutes until dawn and had managed to get up to her room without anyone suspecting a thing. She assumed that they had just assumed that she was in her room for the day, reading or doing whatever it was that ladies do.

She was pleased to find that Rachel was just as lucky. She arrived home and was greeted by her father who was...passed out in the foyer. Her plans had worked and she could not have been happier.

* * *

Noah Puckerman was not a gentleman. In fact he liked to call himself the exact opposite of one of those high class prissy babies. He was a free man and did what he pleased. And yes he did who he pleased, as well.

At the moment he was pressing a maid up against the side of the stable wall. She had been reluctant to let him anywhere within ten feet of her but he had been very persuasive and he usually- no always got what he wanted.

"Mr. Puckerman!" The maid gasped, in her tiny pixie like voice.

He brought their lips together again and didn't bother with the whole romantic slow…no he went straight for tongue. The maid- who was innocently virginal- gasped and whined with every new experience being introduced to her…she was slowly turning into a pile of complete and utter mush not capable of summoning up those morals busted into her head ever since she could remember: _You're not supposed to enjoy it…it is simply for your husband's sake that you endure it._

Oh, forget that she was very much enjoying it, thank you very much!

That was the exact moment that the doors slammed open. The horses in their pens neighed to the new guest. Noah looked away from his new…activities for just a moment and a sly grin was plastered across his face very quickly.

The maid however was currently in the state of complete meltdown as she wormed her way out his embrace. "Oh, dear I'm…sorry…ma'am Misses Fabray."

"Lucy, get out of here and this will not affect your employment here."

She nodded, quickly and curtsied sloppily, before full out running out of the vicinity.

"Mr. Puckerman you do realize that this is the fifth time I've caught you in here…honestly none of our workers are going to still be in procession of their virtue-"

"Miss. Fabray, still a beautiful little rose I see. Not willing, I expect to join the maids in losing of their virtue, I suppose."

She rolled her eyes. "You continue to disgust me."

"Well I do try," he replied with a wink.

"I need your help and no, not involving my virtue, you bastard."

"Ah, Miss. Fabray I'm hurt!" He said, placing his hand over his heart.

"I do not care but I do need something and you always seem to be able to make things happen that probably shouldn't." She sighed. "I need to sneak out tomorrow night and I need to not be caught…my life both literally and not would be over if I was to get caught."

"Uh huh, I see the pretty little rose has finally gotten herself a lover then. It was bound to happen at some point."

"I do not have a lover, Mr. Puckerman. I just need to get out and see a _friend's_ theater performance and my parents cannot know about this."

He whistled, "my rose is becoming quite the bad little princess. Tell what I can do to help and don't you dare leave out any details. I'm the most trustworthy person you'll ever meet and I want to know what is troubling you and whose head needs to be pounded if need be."

She laughed despite herself.

"Fine, but don't judge-"

And she told him. She told him about her strange feelings as of late and how she can't seem to get a certain brunette off her mind. He listened in stony silence and when she finished it all off, she was almost certain that he wouldn't agree. That he would tell her that she was disgusting and confused and needed to be thrown into some prison to straighten her out.

But he didn't.

He wiped a tear from his eye and faced her. For the first time- that she's seen- he was completely and bluntly serious.

"You're playing a difficult game, Miss. Fabray and I'll help you win. Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it."

"Oh, thank- you!" She flung her arms around him and he hugged her back.

"Now, I have one condition, Miss. Fabray and you'd better comply or you won't get to go see you're lady lover-"

"She's not my-"

"I don't care. Just listen."

"I want one kiss, a token of appreciation because at the moment I'm your knight in shining armor and I want a reward and since you scared of Lucy-"

She kissed him, light and slow. There was nothing romantic behind it and there never would be. But at the moment, it was just a way of her showing how much she appreciated his help and how much she loved him for it.

"Thank- you for making my dreams come true, princess and I'll arrange a way for you to get to that theater."

"Thank- you…Noah."

And when she walked back to the house she was skipping and humming a long forgotten melody. Noah watched her go and smiled. It was simply amazing to see her so happy and he would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

So he sat down and composed a letter to a friend of his. He was getting that blonde little princess to that theater. At any cost.

* * *

**Liked it, hated it? Let me know in a review. **


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"…I always liked Mr. Rochester, he always had his heart in the right place, I think."

"But he was also selfish and wanted Jane for himself, not even thinking of her feelings on the matter." Connie said, glancing over at Kurt while she drove. The fact that she kept looking at him when she should have her eyes on the road…was not a comforting thought.

"Yes, perhaps that was true but Jane still loved him." Kurt argued back. "She just didn't understand it at first since she had never been around a man before besides…"

"Besides her abusive cousin and the head mister at Lowood, she grew up believing that men were beasts and that she was better off on her own. I personally agree with her in some ways and in some ways I don't."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked, suddenly curious.

"There are good men and there are bad men," she replied. "The line between the two types are very thin however, almost invisible really. Mr. Rochester was neither good or bad but he was selfish."

Kurt bit his lip and quoted flawlessly, _"Harry, the world isn't spilt into good people and death eaters."_

Connie nodded. "That Dumbly-dore was one wise old coot."

"Connie is there a book you haven't read?" Kurt asked.

She thought on that for a moment. "I haven't read Twilight, I got bored after the first paragraph…"

Kurt chuckled. "But you haven't read much, lately though." He stated. "I haven't seen you read anything since I got here."

"Yeah, my vision's been pretty bad lately, think I might need me some glasses. Can't see the little print very well, anymore," she explained.

Kurt noticed then that she kept squinting at the empty road in front of them and occasionally curved to the side before regaining her composure and driving straight again. He was suddenly very frightened and quickly put a book mark into the worn pages of Jane Eyre.

"Connie, you look tired maybe I could drive for a bit."

She squinted at him. "You have your license, Cherub?"

He snorted. "My dad owns a garage, Connie I've known how to drive a car since before I could even reach the peddles," he said.

She cocked her head to the side. "Cherub, haven't you always be oddly tall?"

"Nope, just got my growth spurt," he said proudly.

"And yet, you still have the voice of a twelve year old girl."

"Gee, thanks Connie and you wear your war time boots like a regular manly general who just murdered a couple dozen innocent people."

She smirked. "Thanks! The original owner of them was a general! I was definitely going for that look."

He rolled his eyes. "Just stop the car, Connie I'll let you read 'Jane Eyre'."

"Can't read it, dummy head!" She shouted bringing the car to a rough stop.

"Dummy head? Really that's the best insult?"

She thought for a moment. "Fine, you are being a truculent toffee nose that really needs to wear pants that give him some blood circulation."

"Why does every argument I have, come back to the pants?" He muttered, under his breath.

* * *

"

"I'm bored!" Ellie announced, loudly to the room of undead beings.

"Darling, you've said that at least 50 times." Eleanor said, looking up from her current book, 'The adventures of Sherlock Holmes.' She was currently in an ongoing argument with Connie on whether or not Sherlock was in love with John and was gathering proof from the large collection Connie owned…Connie was so not winning that argument.

"You know we could go terrorize and emotionally scar some innocent children." Lawrence said, from his spot on the floor. "Connie isn't here to tell us no and we haven't scarred any children since…"

"Last Halloween," Ellie piped up.

"Exactly, we should most deficiently scar some five year olds."

"Lawrence, last time you scarred some children we ended up being followed by ghost hunters and had to have the entire house sprayed…"

He laughed. "Connie was not happy with that one!"

"And she wouldn't be happy now, just because she's not here doesn't mean the rules change." Eleanor stated, with a great amount of authority in her tone. "We would get in trouble."

Ellie frowned. "You sound like that one girl…oh, what's her name…Hermione Granger, that's it! From that book, Connie read to us last year."

"Hermione was _alive_ and just had crazy friends."

"Well, we're not the sanest group around." Lawrence said. "And I feel the need to scare and be a stereotype just for today." He stood up and announced to the room. "Who's with me?!"

"Yay! Let's go scare kids until they pee their short shorts!" Ellie shouted.

"I would indeed enjoy to scar some children," Arthur said, sullenly.

Blaine entered the conversation with: "well, it could be enjoyable I suppose."

"Yay, Blaine's coming!" Ellie shouted and started flying around the room. Eleanor grabbed her foot just before she kicked a shelf and set the contents flying around with her.

Eleanor sighed. "You're all just going to get in trouble and then I'll get in trouble for not stopping you better." She let go of the young girl's foot.

"So you're not going to argue farther?" Lawrence said, sounding surprised.

She rolled her eyes. "Arguments would only steal my breath, go forth and enjoy your night out and I'll be here planning the exact words that I shall say when Connie returns. 'Connie, dearest I tried to stop them but they just went anyway'," she muttered. "I'll have to work on that."

"Great, have fun with that," Lawrence said. "Come on, I say we pay a visit back to Cherub's home town…there was something interesting that I read the other day and I want to see if it is true…"

* * *

Connie at a book fair was like watching a kid in a candy store. Her eyes would light up and she would rush to the different tables -leaving Kurt behind most times- to eat through one book after another. The Cherub's plan to make sure that she didn't spend all her money was not going well. Expectedly when she found a 100 year old copy of 'Alice's adventures in Wonderland' in French, ["Connie, you don't speak French," he had protested. "But Cherub! It is in such great shape and you can read it to me! Besides, it is only 50 Euros, that's a bargain!"]

He had more than once had to pry her fingers off books and had to ignore the odd looks he was getting when he started carrying her over his shoulder to keep her from buying a 10 pound book of Greek poems.

So overall, first day of the book fair was just fabulous!

Kurt fell back onto the hotel bed [They had called ahead to rent it] exhausted out of his mind that night. He almost couldn't move his arm to answer the phone but smiled still when he realized it was Mercedes, someone he could vent his feelings to.

_"Hey boo! You'd never guess what happened today."_

"What happened?" He asked, honestly not interested but tried not to make that obvious.

_"Sam and I were at Lima Bean yesterday and…that disgusting Neanderthal who ruined your life [Who's name I will never say again] came screaming like a manic out of the bathroom! Shouting something about a ghosts and how they were out of get him or something! It was hilarious."_

Kurt smirked and wondered if it had been his crazy undead friends who had done what was in serious need of being done. That day, suddenly seemed a lot brighter and he grinned.

He laughed. "Right, like that could actually happen."

_"I know right!"_

She then went on a long ramble rant about her personal favorite topic, Sam Evans. Kurt made the occasional comment and laughed along with the jokes that Sam had told Mercedes that day.

Sometimes you just have to be grateful for the small miracles that can happen when you have some really great friends…despite them being undead.

* * *

It was late and despite how tired his body was…Kurt's brain just wouldn't shut up. So he turned around in bed, and faced the other double bed, knowing that Connie was awake and asked a question that he had been wanting to ask for a while.

"Why are books so important to you? I mean, I love to read but I don't have a collection of 50 year old driver's manuals."

"Cherub…Kurt, there is a lot you don't know." Connie whispered. "And a lot that I don't know, either…knowledge sometimes gets the best of anyone and that's what happened to my husband. I collect because…because that's what he would have wanted, he always did love a good book…sometimes more than he loved me."

Her voice stumbled and Kurt had the odd urge to hug her and tell her just how sorry he was. But before he could decide he heard Connie loudly snort then start snoring like a bear and rolling around on her bed trying to find a comfortable spot. The decision was made for him and he joined her in sleep soon after and in the morning she acted as if it had never happened and Kurt didn't dig any farther.

* * *

He had lost track of Connie, once again. That was easy to do in the thick crowds and he thought for a moment to not run around and track her down again. She could survive for a few minutes…

He browsed one of the tables, picking through a few French titles. Maybe, he wouldn't have to translate so much text next semester if he proved to Mademoiselle that he could read an entire book in French without a dictionary. He fingered a copy of 'The phantom of the Opera' and flipped through the newer pages. The print was tiny but other than that, it was in good condition.

"You speak French, huh?" A voice asked, from behind him.

He turned and was a little flustered to find that he was standing rather close to a very good looking British boy…with an accent. The boy had thick blonde hair that was done up nicely with an overly large amount of gel. His green eyes, twinkled down at him in a way that made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He was dressed, in what looked like a school uniform he noted that the insignia on his jacket was an eagle in flight.

"Yeah, fluent actually," Kurt replied after he had regained some of his composure.

The boy smirked. "I'm Bailey, Thomas Bailey, the third."

"Hummel, Kurt Hummel the first but most likely the last," he said back.

"How about you pay for your French book, American boy and then we can go for a little walk, maybe."

Kurt nodded a little too fast and proceeded to the cashier and paid a little too quickly, just to get back to Thomas as fast as possible. He had no idea what he was getting himself into. He didn't even know if the other boy was gay…and if he was…was he asking him out on a date?

The very thought made him move even faster and he almost forgot to get the book wrapped and bagged since he was so excited. Was he about to start one of those epic summer romances that had secretly read about for years?

He grabbed the book the second the girl had finished bagging it and tried to casually walk back to where Thomas was waiting, without running or seeming too excited. Wouldn't want him to think he was that happy over the prospect of taking a walk with a cute British boy…yeah, had to be cool.

He couldn't stop himself from smiling though and at the moment he looked a lot like Joker.

* * *

Kurt had never held a boy's hand before. He had held girl's hands before and had been informed by that experience that his hands felt like a baby's…he wondered if they felt like a baby's now. He was a little afraid that he was sweating but Thomas didn't seem to mind.

Kurt had been a little surprised when he had so casually took his hand in his. Maybe it was different here and the sight of two men holding hands wasn't so taboo…maybe it was just completely commonplace and Thomas didn't even realize the effect that simple motion was having on Kurt.

"Tell me about yourself, Thomas." Kurt said, trying to make easy conversation.

"Well, where to start? I go to Killjoy Academy here, it is a very highly recommended school for boys here, really. Most of the people I know go there that's why I was a little surprised to see an out of Towner here…"

"Yeah, came here for the book fair with my aunt." He pointed across the gathering where Connie was currently trying to bargain down a dealer…apparently she wasn't as rich as she had said she was.

"Ah, visiting good old Britain then?"

He nodded.

"Well, you'll have to let me be your tour guide then." He winked, he actually winked at him! Kurt blushed without meaning too and didn't even care.

"There is this great spot, a tea shop over on 7th. Would you like to go?"

"Um sure."

"Perfect then off we go, it's not that long of a walk."

"Okay, but just let me tell my aunt where I'm going. I'll be right back," he said, wiggling himself out of Thomas's grasp.

"…but I'm certain that it can't be worth that much, sir. Can't you bargain down a couple more Euros?" Connie asked.

"Can't, ma'am it's priceless and has been in the family for years…I can't just give it away!"

"Connie, I'm going to tea with this boy I met, meet you back at the hotel in an hour or so?"

"Go ahead, Cherub, have fun and I'll be getting out of here with a new copy of…Wait what was I buying again?"

"Connie, please don't buy anything stupid." He called over his shoulder.

"I won't Cherub!" She screamed back. "Gosh, kid's these days…so demanding."

Kurt out his hand back into Thomas's trying to ignore the stares that came after Connie's outburst.

"Cherub?" Thomas asked, with a slight smirk.

"Trust me, don't ask…she really hasn't ever acknowledged that I have a name." He explained. "Now, where's that tea shop?"

* * *

"Thomas I have to ask, is this town as homophobic as everywhere else seems to be or are we in a British New York?"

He laughed.

"Nope, here is like heaven for blokes and birds like us." He explained. "No one really cares, much and the people that do…learn to keep their mouths shut about it."

Kurt blinked. "I'm from, Lima Ohio," he said, "and it is as homophobic as they come…"

"Well, it's nothing like that here," Thomas explained. "It's…fabulous."

Kurt smirked. Just by that response he could tell that him and Thomas were going to get along, quite well.

* * *

Mercedes was screaming and it was scaring Sam. She had just picked up the phone while they drove to the lake, that morning [Kurt had called at 4 am, making sure that she would be up as it was 9 am where she was]. She was screaming and laughing.

"Boo, you'd better tell me every single detail!" She threatened. "I want to know everything about your little British- American love affair."

Sam raised an eyebrow but didn't anything. Mercedes was sure to explain everything once she was off the phone. He smiled.

_"Well his name is Thomas Bailey the third and-"_

"Wait, the third? Don't rich people add that to the end of their kid's names? I bet this Thomas kid's family has some money in his family, then."

_"Yep, he goes to this preppy boarding school in…gosh I don't even remember the name of the town we were in! But anyways he is volunteering about an hour away from where I'm staying and for some reason…wears his uniform in the summer…I mean what's up with that? Anyways, he took me to this really cute little tea shop and we drank peppermint tea and ate actual crumpets…doesn't taste the way you might think…"_

"Alright spill, everything now boo, did this boy kiss you?'

_"No, but we exchanged numbers and email addresses and after our walk together…he said that he wanted to see me again next weekend!"_

Mercedes screamed again and Sam held in his laugh. It was awesome how close her and Kurt were and despite the fact that said friendship was currently making his eardrums burst it was still touching.

"Boo, I'll call you after I get home…I'm with Sam right now…Sam, Kurt says hi! Sam says hi back, boo…huh, uh…alright boo I told you something good would come out of all this! Now go smooch with your British boy."

_"We haven't kissed yet, 'cedes."_

"Oh I know but when you do I want full details, no exceptions." She laughed. "Bye, bye, boo. Love ya."

She pressed end call and grinned.

Sam smirked. "Considering the fact that you're face looks like it's going to crack and the amount of screaming you did during that call…I'm assuming something really awesome happened."

"Yes, yes it did my boo gots himself a British boy."

"I heard…Ow!"

She slapped his side, he mock rubbed it in pain for a minute before speaking again.

"He deserves it, Kurt I mean after everything's he's been through, he deserves it." Sam said, oddly serious.


	13. Chapter 13

**I do not own anything. **

**Hope you enjoy and please review because I love hearing from you all. **

* * *

Chapter 13

This being her first performance, Rachel was a bit nervous…well a bit would be an understatement. She was practically shaking in her boots at the very thought of going up on that stage.

She, of course had all confidence in her abilities…but she couldn't help that nagging feeling that screamed at her: what if you do something wrong? What if that causes you to be fired…it's easy to replace a girl who does nothing more than scream and say the occasional line. He could easily fire you.

Pull yourself together Berry! She snapped, inside her mind. You're going to be so amazing that he decides to promote you to top role because that would suit your unbelievable talents better.

She kept those thoughts close in mind, hoping that she won't end up freezing up there and making a complete fool of herself.

She would be fine. She hoped.

* * *

Quinn glanced at her pocket-watch again, only to discover that only two minutes had passed since the last time she checked. She checked again…only about 30 seconds that time.

She had been ready for an hour, where was Puckerman?

If he didn't live up to his promise then she wouldn't be able to go to the theater and if she wasn't able to go to the theater then she would have let Rachel down and if she let Rachel down then she would never speak to her again…and if Rachel never spoke to her again then…then…she would be even more broken than she already is.

She grumbled under her breath.

Did he even realize that her entire state of pure sanity relied on his keeping of his promise? Had she not made that completely clear?

She checked the watch again…three minutes had passed…where the hell was he?

"Looking for me, princess?"

She practically jumped out of her skin before seeing Noah's snide smile in the dim light.

"You're late, Puckerman."

"I don't believe I am," he said, innocently. "We didn't exactly establish an exact time-"

"It was Lucy wasn't it?" She said with a roll of her eyes.

"You caught me. She just looked so…delicious in that maid uniform, I couldn't help myself on that one."

"My governess was always right men are complete and utter idiots."

He smiled. "I see, that's why you're into the ladies then."

"I'm not into…anyone besides her," she admitted.

"I knew it, now let us get you to your lady love."

"Arranged something, Puckerman? I thought you would have forgotten."

"For you, I'd do anything and you know that. Now your carriage awaits, my lady."

He gestured down the walk leading up to the stables. A cab sat a fair distance down, the horse whining to get moving. The driver [A young lad, who owed Noah a favor] sat up on the seat.

"And my parents?"

"Leave them to me," he replied, sullenly.

* * *

"

You are a strong, independent woman who is going to show these culture-less people a good performance." Rachel seriously told her mirror. "You are not going to fall on your behind and you are going to be a-ma-zing-"

"And there's no doubt in my mind about that."

Rachel turned around in her chair, her face lighting up, "Quinn! I can't believe you came," she said happily.

"I said I would and I keep my promises." Quinn replied, walking up behind her. "Are you a bit nervous, Rachel?" She placed her hands on her shoulders, Rachel glanced to her mirror image and sighed.

"Well, a bit…I don't have much of a part really…but still."

"And you'll do that part…however small…justice, right?"

"I intend to but this is my first performance and-"

"Then I'm glad I could be here." Rachel's head snapped back up and met Quinn's eyes. The blonde stared intensively back at her, her expression never wavering as she said, "I get to say later on that I saw the great Rachel Berry perform back when she screamed on queue. It'll be the first of many, for you…that is certain."

Rachel felt that her face might crack in two, from how wide her smile had become.

"Thank- you, Quinn….you always just…I'm just so glad that you're here."

"What are you talking about? I'm the lucky one here." She smiled.

"Places people!" The director shouted. "Five minutes till curtain!"

Quinn backed off a little. "I'd better go and get a good seat near the front. Break a leg, Rachel."

She watched her leave, with a little smile on her face. There was just something about Quinn that always made her feel better…at the moment she felt like she could fly and all she had to do was her four lines that night.

She was going to survive and there was nothing to worry about with that.

It was quite sudden but she felt a rush of cold air, just pass her by. The gooseflesh rose up on her arms and she shivered, despite herself. But she smiled, "yes Blaine I think I like her too." She whispered.

* * *

Rachel had an amazing performance. Well as amazing as someone with such a small role could have. When she screamed, she had people reaching to their ears because of the high note she was hitting. Quinn just laughed into her program, even with a scream she had tried to make it more dramatic than it needed to be.

Yes, Quinn had caught her arms rising at the end of it, like she was belting out the last note in a jaw dropping solo. Quinn knew those solos were not too far off, she was far to talented for that type of role. It was only a matter of time before she would grow out of it and the director would open his eyes and finally give her the role that she deserved.

And Quinn was glad that she would get to witness that.

That was the exact moment that she knew that she was in love, oddly enough. Most people catch that special someone off guard and realize right then and there…how beautiful their eyes were. Quinn already knew how beautiful Rachel's eyes were.

It was that moment when she saw how at home she was on stage. How she practically owned it even with other people there. No one shone brighter than her up there. Quinn found that she couldn't take her eyes away, not even for a second.

If someone were to ask her opinion on the production, she would just reply with how beautifully pitched that one Brunette had screamed way back in the second act. She had no idea what she had just watched and she didn't even care.

* * *

"…it was a small but very important rule. I find that the smaller roles are what make up the entire performance, you see. If it weren't for the small people then the bigger people wouldn't look as good. Though I'll admit with my high caliber of skill I believe I do deserve a bigger role…though this experience has helped me appreciate the little people in a production. What do you think, Quinn?"

Quinn was quickly snapped out of it. She still couldn't process this information that she was in love with Rachel Barbra Berry. She was so completely and hopelessly in love with her…everything seemed brighter. It was like she had been traveling in darkness all this time and now there was a light. A light to lead her through the rest of the darkness and towards a happier place…how was it possible that she hadn't realized this all before?

She had been attracted to her before…she had liked her company before but this feeling was something else entirely.

She blinked, "um…could you repeat?"

"You weren't_ listening_?" She asked, her voice sounding so innocent. Quinn was concerned that she had hurt her feelings. She could have Rachel hate her.

"I was listening…just didn't hear exactly what you said." She said, leaning back into the seats of the cab. She had decided to drive her home after the performance. She had said that it was to save her the money but really she wanted to spend a little bit more time with her.

"Oh, well I was just saying that I appreciate the little people in a show more now…and that-"

Rachel blinked, suddenly forgetting what she was about to say. The way Quinn was looking at her…it made her feel so...it was like what she was saying didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was blazing blue eyes meeting her own brown. _The two colors go well together_, she thought. She had never noticed that before.

They held each other's eyes for a moment longer before it happened.

Either of them knew who started it. It was a mutual decision when their lips met. Both girls were scared but also excited as they explored this new feeling. It felt so right and yet so wrong but the right outdid the wrong. Either of them cared that they could be hanged for this…it just felt so good. Why could something that felt so good…be so wrong?

It only lasted a few seconds and their mouths had remained very firmly closed…but it was also the most erotic experience either of them had ever had. They had kissed before but this was different…this had real…spark. Their eyes met for a spilt second, that second filled with passion and lust. Rachel blushed under her attention and stuttered out something along the lines of:

"Um...I…well I…I think we really need to talk-"

No sooner did Rachel stop talking, Quinn had pulled her back. It was desperate, it was sultry and it was love. Most of all, it was love.

Quinn ran her tongue along Rachel's bottom lip, begging for entrance. She quickly compelled and their tongue met in a clash of undeniable passion and desperation. They explored, not too much since it was all so new to the both of them but enough to cause them both to pull away panting for breath and in utter shock of what had just occurred.

They had just committed sin and oh dear God, it had felt so good.

"Yeah, I think we…need to talk…a bit…maybe." Quinn managed to whisper.

Rachel nodded. "Yes, but...uh...later…later we can talk…now we have five more blocks until we reach my house."

That was all Quinn needed to hear. They tugged the curtains shut and for the next five blocks, they committed sin.

* * *

Later that night both girls lay awake, their heartbeats still racing as they thought about the pleasure…the love. They thought about each other, memorizing the looks on the other's face and the sounds of the other girl's breathing.

They both eventually closed their eyes and dreamed of skin and tongues.

This could never work out. It could never get to anything. Someday they would have to forget all of this and move on. They would both have to marry respectable men and have a family with said respectable men.

But while they had it…while they had real love…they decided to enjoy it, yet another mutual decision between the two of them.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Kurt found that he was unable to wipe the smile off his face for the entire ride back and it was concerning Connie. Why Cherub was is randomly pleased with himself? Could he be processed, maybe? She had seen a couple ghosts in the town that they were visiting. It could be that one of them was so completely miserable that they needed a human body to take over, an innocent one…ignorant. And who was more ignorant on the undead than Cherub? Despite the fact that he had been seeing the spirits for most of his life…he never even realized what they were until it was properly explained to him…anyone could have taken advantage of that simple factor.

"Cherub, are you alright?" She asked, attentively. The sprit inside him could attack at any moment so she had to be careful so that he/she didn't know that she was on to them.

"Never better," he replied the smile never diminishing. He turned back to his book, the pages never being turned, a sure sign of procession! The spirit was clearly trying to blend in...A worthy adversary! She would have a mission, awesome.

"Right, right," she muttered under her breath. Her hands wrapped tighter around the steering wheel, still unsure of the condition of Cherub's soul at the moment. She would have to keep a close eye on him.

The ride remained mostly silent, except for the pages turning in Kurt's book and the sounds of the new box of books shifting around in the back. Kurt had talked her out of most of things that she had wanted to buy but she insisted that she had to buy something and that something had managed to turn into many somethings that took up an entire medium sized box.

Kurt was unconcerned over this. He would have to re-catalog all her new selections and find the sale price of them all but he just couldn't get Thomas off his mind. He was so gentlemen-like and dapper, he had really never met anyone quite like him before…and certainly not one who was interested in him, baby peguin him! The very thought of a boy being interested in him was…simply absurd.

"Cherub, blink once if a demon is processing your soul and blink twice if you think I'm nuts." Connie said with such complete calm that Kurt had to bite back his laughter.

He blinked twice and she sighed in realif.

"I was afraid you had been pocessed, Cherub so I had to make certain that this sudden drop in IQ didn't mean the worst."

Kurt finally laughed. "Connie, life's great. Life's fantasic and I can't wait until the weekend!"

"A clear drop in IQ I see," she muttered.

"Yes, certainly! I can't even translate this text into English at the moment and that's saying something!" He exclaimed. "I have no clue what is going on and have no desire to figure it out."

"Mm," Connie mused.

"I mean how is it possible that one date-"

"Wait date?" Connie's eyes widened. She stomped on the brakes and the car- very happily- sputtered to a quick stop. Kurt's book hit the floor and the air bags blew out. Kurt watched as the two bags just deflated and fell back onto the consel…well that's safe. When was the last time this car went through a safety?

"Connie! What was that for?" He demanded.

"You could have told me, a date with a British boy is even worse than possession!"

"In what world would it be worse?" He raised an eyebrow.

Connie thought on this before responding. "On Pluto," she replied.

"But Pluto isn't even a planet anymore!"

"So? Dating a British boy would be worse than pocession on an over grown star. Does that not make perfect sense?" She asked, clearly certain that she was correct.

Kurt's head fell into his hands, how was it possible he was still alive on this trip?

"Well, I'm going on a date with him on Saturday, Connie and you can't stop me." He said, very seriously.

He paused.

"I have not been trapped by a demon either…I'm pretty sure I would know if I was."

She shook her head. Nope, the sprit would be in complete control and you would be known the wiser so you wouldn't know…so you could easily be pocessed and are saying that to throw me off your trail!

Kurt mumbled under his breath, something that sounded like: dear spaghetti monster in the sky how am I ever going to get out of here alive?

They arrived back at the estate at the exact same time that the undead did. They had just territoized some five year olds and had just gotten back in the nick of time. Eleanor, sitting on her window seat watched with some amusement as they scrambled around trying to make it look as if they had been here the entire time.

"You are all in such trouble," she said.

Ellie bouced up onto her knee, "you wouldn't tell…would you?"

"Perhaps," she replied, "I haven't decided yet."

Ellie pouted. "We didn't do too much, just bullied that bully that Cherub had back home and scared a few five year olds…"

"See, you did do some damage." Eleanor scolded.

"But it was for the greater good!" Lawrence said, coming top Ellie's defense. "That boy needed to be punished for his ignorance and the way he expressed said ignorance. Read Cherub's journal! It's all there."

"You read his personal writings?"

"Yes, it was for the greater good!"

Eleanor smirked. "You have no other, aruguments, sir so you chose to say the same line over and over again until it gets you out of mischief."

He snorted. "It's called having a catch phrase, ma'am and just because you don't have one doesn't mean that you have to take it out on me."

"Well I could just-"

"Wait everyone," Blaine said. "Listen."

The door downstairs had just opened and the light mutterings of Connie and Kurt talking could be heard through the layers of moltar and plaster. The sprits froze. Despite what Lawrence might say, they were all terrified of what would happen if Connie didn't approve of what they were doing, she was like a mother to them and you couldn't do wrong in front of your mother.

"Eleanor, don't tell her and…I'll let you win in Black Jack."

"I don't need that from you!"

"Then what, my lady?" He said, formally bowing and doing it completely wrong. It would have been offensive back her day but now it was just…well funny.

She giggled at that. "Fine, if I don't tell then you all must promise to help Cherub in his work so he doesn't have to spend hours cataloging. Clearly he deserves a break and you must all give it to him."

The room was full of agreement as they all chipped in their assistance.

Blaine seemed the most excited, "we'll begin tonight and we won't tell him of our doings, agreed?"

"Agreed," the unnatural beings said.

"Good," Eleanor said. "Then let's go greet them."

* * *

It was late that night. Once again, Kurt could not sleep. The nightmares had returned and they were as fierce and gruesome as before, if not more. He tried to stay awake to prevent them from sucking him back into that abase of sorrow and misery.

He pinched himself hard, to keep awake.

That was when he heard it. It was the faintest whisper on the wind and if he had not been listening so attentively then he would have surely missed it. Curiosity got the better of him as he slipped out from between the covers and stuffed his feet into his silk slippers. The only light came from the window, where the moon shone brightly and directly on him making him look pale as a spirit and as beautiful as one too.

He glanced around for a light source to bring with him, wandering the halls in the daylight was one thing but at night was a different story. His phone was dead, with all the excitement of the day he had forgotten to plug it into his charger. So he shifted through the drawers.

He came across a candle, the wax unused. He soon found the candle holder and eventually a match. He took difficulty in lighting it but eventually had a little flame to lead him through the halls.

He took a deep breath as he slipped a few more matches into his pockets, just in case. The whisper was still on the wind as he opened the door out into the hallway. He could only faintly hear it but it was enough to guide him towards the entrance to the attic. His slippers made light sounds on the slick hardwood floor as he climbed the many stairs up to the attic.

His breathing had quickened, and his hand holding the candle was slick with sweat and not just from the heat. What was he getting himself into? It could be a burglar on the roof and he would just be letting him/her gain entrance by going up to the roof. Still something pulled him up, a force so powerful that he couldn't turn his own feet around to go back. It was like someone had him on a string and was slowly tugging him forward, and onto the roof that night. Later on, he wouldn't be able to explain that force…but what was more exciting than the things that couldn't be explained? He never questioned it, again.

He blew out the candle and left it on the floor by the ladder. The moon was bright enough to show him the way from there. He climbed, with curiosity and fear: what would await him at the top? The whisper had grown louder and he realized as he neared the top that it was song. A beautiful and terrible song sung by a tattered soul, clearly so desperate that it sounded out in his words. Kurt's heartbeat was so loud that he was afraid that he would be found out before he even reached the top. He slowly pushed the trapdoor open, just allowing enough space for him to peek through.

It was Blaine.

He sat on the very edge of the roof and sung without care to the night. He sang in a language long forgotten and misused now but Kurt recognized it as Latin. Connie had a few [An entire section] novels devoted to the language. Despite not understanding, Kurt still thought it was beautiful.

Blaine stopped.

Kurt's breath hitched: was he caught?

"You can come out, Kurt, I do not mind."

He had known he was there the entire time? His face reddened in embarrassment as he climbed the rest of the way up to join him because he couldn't very well say no.

"Evening Kurt," he said.

"Evening Blaine," he replied back.

"Today is a special day," he said. "I guess not as special to someone like you but to someone like me it is very special."

"And what day is it today?"

"Today, exactly 160 years ago I was murdered. I suppose to a ghost this is almost like celebrating a birthday." He glanced over to Kurt, who had turned quite pale under the moonlight. "It was a sad song, I know but I thought it suited the situation."

Kurt managed to find his voice and he asked one question. A question that Blaine had honestly not been expecting, not in a million years had he seen it coming.

"Who were you singing to?"

It was an innocent question yes but it tracked up a lot of emotion for Blaine. He had not spent a single day since his death not thinking about the one that he had been singing too. Every passing second, put a barrier between him and the past…and there was nothing he could do about it.

He was trapped.

He sighed. "I suppose a story needs to be told now. It is a long story, I hope you don't mind."

Kurt smiled a bit. "No, as long as you are comfortable with telling it to me."

"I'm not certain why, Kurt but I am comfortable telling you. You just seem... trustworthy."

"Well, I've had my fair share of secrets, Blaine. So I guess I'm an expert."

Blaine wondered but he didn't ask. Instead he launched into his story, telling every last bit in deep detail and he hoped that Kurt would understand. He told him about Gavin and how he had loved him so much that sometimes his heart broke when they were apart for too long. He told him how they had met, on the sea port one rainy day and how he had given an ear to hear his problems. He told him how they met secretly after that and how they had fallen in love.

He told him about Rachel Berry. His one true friend that he missed almost as dearly as he missed Gavin…he told him about her dreams of stardom and the extent that she went to get those dreams. He told him about their little deal.

"What happened to Rachel?" He asked.

Blaine sighed. "Her father found out about her dreams and he sent her away, to a finishing school. I wanted to follow her there but never had the chance."

Kurt told him about the photo that he had found the other day.

He smiled. "Yes, she did have a lover who loved her more than life itself but their love could not be. They ended up being separated and her lover was sent away…I suppose to work here, maybe. That would explain the photo."

"I'll give the photo to you tomorrow," he promised. "Continue on with your story please."

Blaine continued. When he had told the others the story of his death, he had left out details…the more gruesome parts to spare their feelings on the matter. But with Kurt he found that he didn't want to, so he told him the whole story and watched as his expression changed from shock to sorrow.

'Oh, Blaine I'm so sad for you."

That comment was the first one that led to a long line of comments….which led to Blaine falling in love with Kurt Hummel. He didn't know it now but he still felt it…where his heart used to be.

"Thank-you for listening," he whispered.

Kurt smiled. "I'm going to do more than listen, Blaine. We'll find out who killed you once and for all! And find out where they stashed your body, too."

Blaine laughed. "Scotland Yard gave up on that case months after it happened! How could you figure it out, if they failed?"

"Clearly they gave up too _quickly_. You deserve better, Blaine and we are going to get that for you." He yawned. "But first, I think I should get some sleep then we're going through Connie's old newspaper collection. There has to be something there that could help us."

Blaine chuckled. "I don't expect us to find anything it was over a century ago."

"Then we'll just have to look harder then." Kurt said, sounding determined.

Blaine smiled. "You remind me so much of him, he tried to figure it out too. But failed and was tossed in the Thames before he could. But still, you are just like him."

"And by the way you talk about him I can tell that is a compliment so thank-you.

Kurt then went to bed, his mind full of his new task so the extent that the nightmares didn't dare haunt him tonight. Blaine however, spent the rest of the night cataloging driver's manuals.


	15. Chapter 15

** I hope you like reading this and if you do let me know because I just love hearing from you all. **

**I continue to own nothing and never will. **

* * *

Chapter 15

Early the next morning, Rachel was ushered into her father's study. She had only just woken from a wonderful dream, it had been her and Quinn they'd found a way! Quinn had bought her the most beautiful ring and had asked her to be her wife. This all happened in a very public park with a million people just walking by but at that moment it just felt like her and Quinn. They had kissed and laughed, the people cheering behind them. As if this was all just a daily occurrence and they had no reason not to be happy about it.

"I love you," Quinn whispered.

They were to be married in the fall and have an estate and-

She woke up.

The reality of the situation was even more brighter than ever.

And she hated it.

"Rachel, come in and sit." Her father said, looking directly at her. He never looked directly at her…did he know? It was impossible but maybe he did. She was quick to follow his command, to show that she was obedient and could do as he commanded. She would never betray him and tried to show this through her actions. He did not seem to notice anything amiss and she let out a sigh of relief.

"Rachel, my dear do you remember what I told you after your mother left?"

She shook her head but she did, she could never forget.

"I said that this didn't mean anything that your position was still the same even without your mother here. You would finish your schooling, have your season then marry and have a family of your own."

She nodded, curious as to where he was going with this.

"So why, pray tell would you venture out of that plan?" He held up a small notebook. "In this book you have written many a interesting things, shall we read? You are really quite the little writer, an unfortunate talent however since writing novels is such a dead business."

Rachel's heart started beating at twice its regular pace. She traced back her memory and tried to remember what she had written.

_I am still determined to find out what happened to him. I will never let his memory be tarnished by these fools. I am setting out today to interview the owner of the hotel, I hope this will bring some much needed answers. _

Rachel's eyes widened, to the point that they looked like saucers. She couldn't even try to mask her fear, she just let it show. What would it matter anyway? She was good as dead now anyway. Did he know of her little day trip? Had he just been ignoring it all along until he had proof? She was glad that she never updated that thing daily. She could only imagine what his reaction to Quinn would be.

"What was your exact relationship with Mr Anderson?" He snapped, slamming the journal down onto his desk.

"Wha-"

"Were you well _antiqued_ with Mr Anderson? Did you plan to follow in your whore mother's footsteps?"

She bit her lip, to hold back her laughter. Her in love with Mr Anderson or even lusting after him? Mr Anderson was a brilliant man with a bright and open mind and also incredibly handsome. She admired him, if anything else. Love was never apart of the equation.

However if she told the truth…her best friend's memory would be tarnished so she decided to lie. She let a new person's thoughts cloud her own and even she began to believe the lie.

She blinked back a few tears. "Yes, father we were in love. I used to sneak away to meet with him, we were going to run away and be married…in America. After his….disappearance I was determined to figure out what had happened to my love. No one was doing anything…I had to do something, father…I couldn't let him be remembered like that-"

Her handkerchief was fetched out of her pocket. She let tears falls as she tried to wipe them away.

"Stop. You are never leaving this house again, besides for tea with the ladies, to keep up with appearances. You will live this way until it is time for your season and if you disobey me again then the punishment shall be even more severe."

She nodded. "Yes, father."

"You may go now and remember what we said, Rachel."

"Yes, father."

She managed to get down that hallway before she started laughing. She laughed like a crazy woman for a few minutes before wiping a tear away from her eye and carrying on like nothing had happened.

She was just so glad that her father didn't understand. She was so glad that she hadn't written in her journal the night before and that her father had been asleep when she had come back. Disaster worse than this would have happened and she couldn't help but mutter a little prayer that she hadn't been caught.

She hoped with every fiber of her being that she wouldn't ever be caught.

Now she had to go get ready, she had tea with the ladies that day, at Quinn's house. She could hardly wait. She raced back up to her room. She already had a dress laid out for the occasion.

* * *

From the second Rachel arrived, Quinn was unable to take her eyes off her. The very idea that she could-at any moment- bring her into the other room and kiss her senseless...this thought just would not leave her mind. She tried not to be obvious but failed...over and over again.

They had all sat down and the tea had been served. Rachel had only taken one sip from her tea cup when she realized that she could not take it any longer. Now Rachel always looked beautiful in her mind. However she never failed to catch her attention in any other way.

She just looked so cute.

Without even thinking it through, Quinn slipped her hand under the table and removed her glove. She dropped it onto the ground and shoved it under her chair where she hoped no one would find it.

"Rachel, darling I seemed to have lost my good lace glove, could y-you come help me find it?" Quinn asked, bringing her gloveless hand above the table as if she needed to show its bareness.

Rachel smiled, a bit shyly. "Of course, Quinn dear do you know where you last saw it?"

"I believe it was up in my chambers, care to take a look?"

Quinn winked in her direction, making certain no one else saw. The other ladies were chatting among themselves. They had not even noticed the entire exchange and for that the girls were grateful.

Rachel's face reddened and her breath hitched but she still managed a response.

"O-of course," she replied. "Excuse us ladies, we'll be back in a few minutes."

They practically ran out of the sitting room, leaving the other ladies to gossip over...whatever it had been that they were talking about. Neither girl knew or cared at the moment.

The door to Quinn's chambers flung open and they were quick to shut and lock it. Rachel giggled but was soon silenced with a set of full lips on hers. Her overall intelligence dropped with that one quick movement and she found herself speechless for once.

They pulled apart for a moment panting for air.

"God, Rachel you look…beautiful today…I just couldn't-"

"Do you see me complaining?" She sniped back. "Kiss me…now."

Her command was obeyed. Quinn could feel her nipples hardening as she shoved the younger girl up against the wall. Rachel fumbled with the buttons on her jacket, until Quinn stepped in and simply pulled it off, flinging it across the room.

Her lips attached to her collarbone, just an inch below her dress line. She wouldn't be able to wear anything low cut until it healed…she didn't care. Quinn's talented tongue licked over the new wound, before biting into it.

Rachel almost screamed, her lover placed a hand over her mouth.

"Shh, love they're still downstairs, we can't let them hear us."

Rachel nodded, too flustered by whatever Quinn was doing with her tongue to respond. How did she know how to do that? The thought vanished as quickly as it had come when she kissed her again.

Neither girl waited to let their tongues meet again. They explored, not caring about speed or morals or whatever it was that their governesses had been drilling into their heads since before they could remember.

Words flashed across Rachel's mind: _sin…morally wrong…forbidden…death…witch…whore…_

Quinn's hands had started to wander, resting on her hips but still wandering down to the hem of her skirt…

"S-stop,' she stuttered out. "I'm not ready…we need to talk first."

"You don't want," Quinn whispered, a bit hurt. Her eyes, still coated in lust met Rachel's, the sight scared her…in the strangest way.

"Of course I do…I just think we need to figure out…what this is before we go any farther." She admitted. "D-do you love me, Quinn?"

This seemed like a good question however she did not expect the answer.

She blinked before leaning close and whispering in her waiting ear, "of course I do, I always have…just been way too scared to admit it."

"R-really," she said.

"Really, really," she replied.

Rachel's face suddenly broke out into a huge grin.

"I'm not sure about my feelings towards you, Quinn but don't worry I'll be certain to tell you once I know." She said, very quickly. She felt a bit bad for not having an answer right away but she did not want to lie to her.

"And I'll be waiting to hear from you."

The mood mostly ruined from then on, Quinn helped her lover get back into proper attire. Her hair was so messed up that instead of trying to fix it, Quinn just removed it from the pins and let it cascade down her back.

"We are going to have to fix your hair," she admitted. A blush spread across her cheeks.

Rachel nodded and went to sit in front of her mirror. Quinn moved behind her and smiled to their reflection before running her fingers through Rachel's hair. It was just so long and thick, it never seemed to end.

She picked up her brush and glided it through the tangles, apologizing whenever she hit a knot.

Rachel just smiled and never complained. For once she just like her opinions sit inside her mind and she just sat back and enjoyed it. She had let people brush her hair before but with Quinn it all just felt different. Everything always felt different with Quinn.

So she let herself enjoy it, with her eyes closed.

* * *

Luanne waltzed in only a few minutes after the two girls had returned from upstairs. She smiled and said her greetings to the other ladies. Quinn felt her blood run cold…did she know? Were they too loud? Would it all be over now? She gripped Rachel's hand under the table for support. They would get through it together if she did know.

"Miss Berry, may I speak with you a moment?" She asked, completely out of the blue.

Rachel glanced to her lover out of the corner of her eye, Quinn gave her a reassuring smile. But even she could tell that it was strained.

"Yes, Mrs Fabray what do you wish to talk to me about?"

"Come with me, into the separate sitting room, we have quite a bit to discuss."

"Yes, ma'am." She replied, obedient. She gave Quinn's hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. Quinn missed her presence before she was even out of the room.

She followed her out and into the sitting room. Quinn stared after her, muttering a prayer under her breath that Luanne [If she knew] that she would take pity on them. Even if that would never happen, it was nice to think that she might.

"Sit, Rachel."

She sat. Luanne paced in front of her.

"Last time we spoke, you were quite rude to me and I can understand that you'd be a bit frightened on getting married. I was way back when and yes this old lady was once a fair belle of the ball such as yourself-"

"…you're not old," Rachel commented. The lie did not help.

Luanne ignored her. "Now listen here, both our families could benefit from this marriage and you know this. You will be marrying my son, even if I do have to hire an executer and have at least one bullet available."

"You don't scare me.'

"Really, well I should because if I am anything then I'm persistent. A marriage will happen after your 16th birthday even if I have to drag you down to the chapel by your grossly colored hair."

"I will not be _dragged_, Mrs Fabray!"

"I know about you, Rachel-

Her heart sped up and her lip quivered. She keep her lips in a firm line despite this.

"-I know that you sneak out of your house to go to that ratty old theater downtown. I could easily let that slip next time I'm having tea with your father. If you know what's good for you then you'll do what is expected of you and keep your mouth shut and we'll have no issues here."

"I'd rather die," she sniped.

"That, my dear can be arranged," she replied, with a little snide smile. "Now, do tell your mother hello from me, I heard last that she was posing for a French artist…lingerie no doubt."

Her eyes widened, a new fire blazing now.

"Thank-you I'll be sure to pass on the message."

* * *

**Like, hate? Let me know. **


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

_Dear journal,_

_I'm helping Blaine now. His body was never found after he died and I feel like I must help him…even if it is only figuring out where his murders stashed his body so he could have a proper burial and whatnot. I wish I could do more but what would I do? The murder was over a 100 years ago…no one really cares anymore if they cared when it happened that is…_

_Sigh, I must go. Connie has an entire room full of newspapers so hopefully we'll find something worthwhile in there that will help us to figure out what exactly happened on that day so long ago…_

Connie collected everything and that ended up including a room dedicated to newspapers. There were newspapers from modern day all the way back to the WW2 announcements. Kurt didn't know much about British history so it was interesting and horrifying to read through some of the articles. The ones dated later described survival stories but the ones from the beginning was all…death notifications.

He set the one he had been reading back into the pile with the others. He noticed something on another pile and picked it up, curious…the front cover boosted a black and white photo of an airship…on fire.

"Blaine look, she has that famous newspaper article about that airship…what was it called?"

"The Hindenburg?" Blaine offered.

"Yeah that one that blew up…kind of terrifying isn't it?"

He nodded. "Airships were amazing flight machines…I had the pleasure of riding one back when I was a little tyke."

"But the Hindenburg-"

"Was the largest airship ever made, Kurt," he explained. "It was unsafe to begin with and besides it was a complete accident, really."

"Hmm, then why would they cancel them out all together then?"

He shrugged. "People were scared, Kurt it happens. It will come back though." He sounded very sure of himself when he said that.

"How do you know?"

Blaine thought back trying to recall the exact fact. "I read somewhere that the average airship could travel around the world 4 times and still use less fuel than a modern jet airliner."

"Really?!"

"Correct," Blaine replied.

"Wow, that seems a lot more profitable." He muttered to himself as he read over the article.

Blaine smiled and silently watched as Kurt read. His eyes would flare up every few seconds, the eye color changing from blue to green to match his shock. Mr. Anderson had never seen anything quite like it. He was such an amazing person and so beautiful and…

Blaine snapped out of his train of thought. He couldn't be thinking of Kurt that way! He was alive and had his entire life ahead of him…Blaine's life was long over and there was no changing that.

Still, he couldn't stop the burning in where his heart used to be at the very thought of Kurt leaving at the end of the summer.

Kurt would never know how much he had helped him…just by being him. Just by caring about him the way he did and that had brought him out of his moping and desperate tears. Kurt would never know how grateful he is to him.

He would never know.

But that didn't change anything Blaine would always have that place in his heart for him anyway.

* * *

It was a rare case when you found Connie alone. She normally spent her time playing cards or even just hanging out with her home's other guests. But today, she felt the need to be alone. She sat in one of the only rooms that didn't have book shelves lining the walls.

The walls were flowered in pink and white. A fireplace sat unused on one end of the room, taking up most of the wall. The mantle was full of little toys, mostly dolls but there was one photo. One of a young girl, her long brown hair down up in curls around her oval shaped face, her eyes smiled a pleasant blue. The queen size bed was neatly made as if the owner had only slept the night before.

Connie sat in a rocking chair by the unlit fire, imagining someone else sitting there. A woman, her dress long enough to get stuck on the rocker, holding a big book across her lap…a little girl bounced up onto her lap and asked for a story…the one about the princess and the frog. That had always been Connie's favorite.

It had been years since anyone besides herself had sat there. It had been years since her family abandoned her here and years since she actually felt the need to have _alive_ human company. She had her ghost friends and the Gnomes when they weren't being too annoying…but she used to have other people too and she missed those other people now. She had never thought she would but she did.

A tear slipped down her wrinkled cheek, soon followed by a storm that would never be put out.

She suddenly wished someone would hold her.

She suddenly wished that someone wouldn't leave her.

That someone would say that they loved her.

And that she was never ever alone.

* * *

It was a long day. Kurt and Blaine sifted through most of the newspapers but didn't find exactly what they were looking for. There were still a few more to look through but that would wait until tomorrow. Kurt was exhausted.

He fell back onto his bed, sighing in relief as each of his limbs slowly relaxed. He closed his eyes and breathed it all in. For a minute he just enjoyed the feel of the comforter underneath him and the light breeze coming through the slightly open window. Before he asked, "Blaine?"

"Yes, Kurt," He said trying not to sound too eager. Kurt hadn't asked him to leave saying that he had something that he wanted to ask him, he was very curious. He tried not to let it show but it didn't matter as Kurt kept his eyes closed.

"My mom died, a long time ago when I was about six." He said. "She got really sick, Blaine and to be honest I thought it was my fault at the time."

Now he was curious, he hovered closer and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"It was winter and I wanted to play outside. It was the first snowfall and I just had to play with my new sleigh. She had gotten it for me." He smiled. "It was pink with silver stripes down the sides and I thought it was the greatest thing ever. This was before I got obsessed with hair products and skin care lotions, just so you know. Anyways, mom just real sick after that…I remember asking my dad if it was my fault because of how long I had played in the snow that day. He kept telling me no, that it was no one's fault and she was sick before winter even started we just didn't know it."

He sighed.

"I remember apologizing to her, saying how it was all my fault anyway. No matter what my dad said…s-she just said that she loved me and that she would always love me no matter what happens…even if s-she c-couldn't be with us anymore. I prayed a lot then, I had never been religious and hardly knew what I was doing…but I lost whatever faith I had the day that she died. I was eight when the cancer finally took her, Blaine…I always have just wanted to talk to her again. I still visit her grave whenever I need someone to talk to…it feels weird talking to a stone but somehow I know she's there…despite how I don't believe in an afterlife…sometimes you just feel like there is something more…it's difficult to explain…but Blaine why didn't I see her after she died?

If I can see ghosts then I should have been able to see her. Did she just not care enough to stick around?"

"No," Blaine said. "I know that she would have wanted to stay with you, Kurt but…she had no reason to stay. Spirits stay trapped in the world because they have unfinished business and if you and your dad loved her the way that I think you did then she would have nothing to hold back onto."

"That's what they say in all the ghost movies though."

"And who says that they didn't get one thing right?" Blaine shrugged.

Kurt laughed and eventually Blaine joined in. Until they both forgot what they were laughing about…it felt so good just to laugh and really laugh…not faking it. They were both lost but were certainly found in that moment.

Kurt wiped a tear from his eye and grinned.

A moment passed.

"Do you ever think I will get to see her again?" Kurt whispered. "I've been questioning everything since I got here so maybe…"

"I don't know and perhaps it is indeed better not knowing. Don't you agree?"

He nodded. "It would cause less wars, that's for certain."

Kurt let out a yawn and quickly covered his mouth. "Gosh, not even going to bother changing today…I'm just going to sleep."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No, stay I like having you here." He said, through a yawn. His eyes fluttered shut and didn't open again. Blaine assumed that he had fallen asleep.

Gently Blaine lifted him so he could tuck him underneath his blankets. Kurt snuggled into his pillows, choosing one of them to hug. He smiled in his sleep, his dreams were left unscarred by nightmares that night and Blaine was glad of it. He had heard Kurt before when he was having nightmares, he would thrush around in bed and sometimes even wake up screaming. It was horrible that he didn't have anyone to hold him when he woke up from his nightmares…Blaine wished that he could really hold him…he would if he could.

Unable to help himself, Blaine leaned over and kissed his cheek. Kurt cringed and snuggled deeper into his blankets.

Sleepily Kurt muttered, "close the window…its cold."

Blaine didn't leave his side for the rest of the night, the entire night he thought. He thought about his life before and his life now…what had changed and what couldn't happen. He couldn't truly be with Kurt…he could be friends with him and be there for him when he needed someone to listen.

But he couldn't hold him back. He had been through so much in his life and yet he had so much of it left to go and he couldn't hold him back from that.

He sighed. Well they had the rest of the summer before reality had to set back in and they would part ways.

To a ghost a day could seem like seconds or like years depending on their mood. Time could go on forever or it could speed up. The universe being a bitch, Blaine always thought of it as. But for the first time he wished time would slow down and this summer would last forever.

* * *

**Just thought I'd say something here. That last scene was what made this story happen. It was the first scene that I thought of, dialogue and all. It is just really special to me and I thought I'd share. **

**I hope you are liking the story. Please review. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry that this is late. I got annoyed with this chapter and ended up rewriting it all. Hope you enjoy it. **

* * *

Chapter 17

Luanne slammed the door behind her, leaving Rachel behind. She sunk back into the chair, trying to process what had just happened. A fire burnt through her like a volcano threatening to erupt. Her fingernails dug into her palms. She had never hated anyone more than she hated Luanne. She had never known that this type of anger even existed before now.

She glanced around the room, trying to clear her mind. She had to compose herself before she could go back. She had to pretend like nothing had ever happened. Her eyes landed on a vase that was simply sitting on the mantle. It was a pretty vase, red in color and thin in shape. A white flower pattern dominated the surface and two roses sat inside.

She noticed something. The entire room matched the vase. The wallpaper had the exact same pattern, as did the curtains and the rug by the fireplace. The mantle was the exact same white as the flower pattern. Even the furniture seemed to match.

She stood and wandered over to it. A fine layer of dust had settled on the vase and also everything else on the mantle. She frowned. This room was unused, abandoned. Rachel ran a finger along the flower pattern. She crushed the dust between her two fingers.

"The room doesn't match you," She whispered. "You match it...you were chosen to blend in...nothing more. Now they all abandoned you..."

She thought back her future, her marriage. She imagined herself on Fredrick's arm being escorted to party after party. She imaged drinking tea with people she hated but had to pretend to love. She imagined her voice going unused in this world, never needing to use her one talent because it was not proper.

She saw a little girl. She wore a pure white nightgown that was much too big for her. She kept tripping over it and yet never complained. She would just laugh at her own attics and continue on trying.

Rachel's breath hitched in her throat.

The girl had blonde curls that bounced around her angel face. Her eyes were a deep and warm brown that laughed when she did. She was Quinn in miniature. She was a constant reminder of what was and what could never be.

A loud crash sounded throughout the room and with a shock she realized that she had knocked the vase onto the ground. The tiny bit of water was spreading and sinking into the rug. Two roses lay among the glass. They were rotting along the edges and crumbling a bit. Shaking she picked them up and held them to her chest.

They were never given a chance to bloom. Never given a chance to grow out of their cage.

The first tear fell followed by many others. She felt like she could never stop crying, like her sadness would never stop. It never would and she knew it.

* * *

After Rachel had been gone so long, Quinn knew something was wrong. She should never have let her go off alone with her mother. A sickening image of her mother's hand coming down on Rachel flashed through her mind. She stood up roughly and excused herself. The image was so vivid that she almost did not hear a response.

"What is going on with you and the Berry anyways? She is such a total bore and-"

She spun around and her hand slammed onto the table.

"Do not ever speak of Rachel that way or you will have more issues than the fact that rouge can only cover up so much. She. Is. My. Friend. End. Of. Story."

She marched out of the room and no nasty whispers followed her. She knew they would come though. They would come the second that she was out of earshot and she knew it.

However she could not let that bother her now. She had to find her.

She searched through the hallways until she heard the sound of breaking glass. She ran frantically to the source and slammed open the door. She expected anything except what she saw. Rachel stood there, two rotting flowers clutched in her hands and tears flowing down her face.

"Oh...Rachel what happened?"

She looked up and in one second she buried herself in Quinn's shoulder. She sobbed and clung onto her for dear life. Quinn held her until she was ready to speak.

"I have to marry him...Luanne threatened to tell my dad about the theater...oh Quinn...I was so scared and-"

"Shh, it's alright she gets to everyone and we will think of something."

She did not even believe her own words.

She placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look her in the eye. She gave her a reassuring smile. Rachel's response was just above a whisper, "Promise?"

"I promise," she replied.

"Oh god, thank-you Quinn…marrying off so early would be such a complete waste of my talent…I'm only just starting and…and the only person I would want to marry I-is you."

"Illegal and immoral," she responded automatically.

"I don't care…they are all wrong, Quinn…they're wrong."

"I know and they'll all see it someday…but for now, let's get you out of this marriage and back on that stage…because you belong there and should never have to belong to a man."

"Y-you think so?"

"A blind man would see how you light up on that stage, Rachel and I'm not blind…I know how much you love the stage and-"

Rachel buried her face into Quinn's shirt sleeves and muttered under her breath. She knew Quinn heard it but she wasn't ready to say it out loud…not quite yet.

"I love you more."

* * *

It was like Mr Anderson had been almost completely forgotten. Well Rachel didn't forget about him, she just never had any time to continue her investigation. The preparation for her season was becoming far too hectic.

In two weeks, she would turn sixteen and be invited to her first ball. She would only have one night [As Luanne put it] of freedom before she was doomed to marriage. For once, Rachel dreaded her coming season.

She could hardly believe that she wouldn't even have a season. She would curtsy to the Queen then proceed to the Silver Wing Ball, Quinn's season party. Her father thought that there wouldn't be much of a point of her having her own party…since she would be married only a week after.

She and Quinn continued to meet on the sidelines, after dark. When Rachel would sneak out and walk to Quinn's house, to spend the night. They would spend the night kissing and exploring a bit, but mostly cuddling and pretending that they were married, pretending that they could be together and that this was completely normal, pretending that she didn't have to leave in the morning before the sun even rose.

Rachel's governess had always told her that games of pretend were bad for the mind, they soiled it and bent it in the way that it shouldn't. It gave women power.

And that was unheard of.

But still, they met and whispered promises together that would never come true. It didn't matter, the dream was enough.

Soon the night of Quinn's party came. She was sixteen, a woman and yet she didn't feel anything different. It was all that she had ever wanted and…there was nothing. She was wearing the most beautiful dress that she'd ever seen and looked more stunning than ever and was about to march to the Queen and curtsy…and be a woman officially.

What right did she have in determining her womanhood?

Looking to her reflection she wondered what would happen if she simply didn't show up. If she hailed a cab and stole Rachel from her home and they could run away. She heard a rumor that there were people like her in France. They could go there and share a flat and complain that it's too small…but secretly love it because they're together. They could adopt a cat and it would be fat and useless. They could take walks through the park and have picnics under the big oak tree. They could be artist's models and opera singers and be the talk of the town back in London.

And they wouldn't care.

Because they had done what no one else was brave enough to do, they escaped. They were being themselves and not some faded broken version of who they once were.

They were free.

Quinn snapped out of it and fixed a loose hair in her up-do.

Her mother quotes inside her head, it is not good for a woman to have dreams. She should sew and darn socks and keep her mouth shut. Dreams are useless because they would never ever come true.

For once, her mother was right.


	18. Chapter 18

**Late and I am sorry. The end of the semester and exams are getting close. Next week, in fact. So if next week is late please forgive me, it just means that I could not find time to edit the chapter. **

**Also I wanted to add that we are starting to near the end. As planned now there are two more real chapters and two separate epilogues. Thanks to all of you for reading this from the beginning and I hope you enjoy this new chapter. **

**I continue to own nothing and never will. **

* * *

Chapter 18

_Dear journal,_

_Life is the same in the madhouse really. Blaine and I are still working on solving the murder and we think that we found something that could be a step in the right direction. There was two newspaper articles centering around his 'disappearance' but Blaine insists that those articles have little or no truth to them. If we want to find the clues then we have to get dirty and read the gossip columns. It's odd how people wrote about other people's personal lives in something like a newspaper but I guess that's what they must have done before reality T.V._

_Anyways we were reading through the articles and for some reason the name Berry keeps showing up. Blaine had said that she had tried to solve it but had she gone public with it?_

_And who was this lover that was sent here…and ended up living in the servant's quarters? So many questions and yet…so little answers._

* * *

Kurt couldn't breathe…the lips on his were to persistent and so eager. He fisted his hands into Thomas's thick blonde hair, still slick with product. He moaned in response and his lips left Kurt's for just a moment.

He latched onto his neck, hungrily sucking the skin there. The Cherub's breathing had quickened and for once in his life...he didn't mind that his hair was an absolute mess. He didn't care that his precious designer sweater was now ripped a bit at the shoulder because someone was very pushy and wanted better access.

Thomas had gotten annoyed with the sweater and proceeded to rip it off altogether only to discover that Kurt really liked layers.

"Here, let me help." He tried to say as calmly as possible, which was rather difficult given the situation.

Thomas wasted no time before he started kissing down his chest. His tongue sucked on each nipple on his way down.

"Ooh…"

Kurt wasn't capable of forming words at the moment. In fact his overall IQ had made a very steady drop and was continuing to go down as Thomas made his exploring faster. His eyes met his for a brief second, the endless blue drenched in lust…no real love hidden there.

His tongue swirled around his belly button, making Kurt whine like a cat in heat. That seemed to encourage him as his fingers stumbled with the buttons on his trousers…

glanced up at him, asking permission before continuing. But it wasn't his face. He was certain that it wasn't. After all Thomas did not have black curls and golden brown eyes.

Kurt woke sitting up so straight that he was certain his spine cracked a bit. He was panting the dream was so vivid…he could recall every single detail...

He was glad that Blaine hadn't decided to stay in his room that night. He couldn't even imagine his embarrassment if Blaine was to find him in this state.

Much later, after dealing with his issues Kurt fell back asleep. He didn't dream again that night and by the morning all memories of that interesting dream had vanished from his mind.

* * *

The week passed in a blur of newspaper headings and coffee breaks. Kurt worked night and day cataloging the books and slowly figuring out Blaine's mystery as well. He had- almost- forgotten about his date until it was the day of and he was busy obsessing over his outfits.

Ellie, Eleanor and Connie had decided to join him as he tried on outfit after flamboyant outfit. He didn't seem satisfied with anyone of them despite the fact that he could wear a paper bag and still look fabulous. His nervousness was clear though he tried his best to mask it.

"Here, what do you guys think of this one?" He said, modeling the thirteenth outfit or was it the fourteenth…they had lost count.

"It's perfect, red is definitely your color." Ellie said, looking up from her copy of Vogue. She had become very obsessed with the magazine ever since it was introduced to her. Kurt was rather proud of himself for being the cause of said obsession.

Kurt groaned. "You said the exact same thing about green."

"Cherub, you look amazing and he's going to love you…no matter what clothing you choose." Eleanor said, with a strained smile.

"I still think he is being controlled by a demon or something. I mean what else would cause a teenager to try on so many clothing choices…"

"You are obviously not from this time period," Kurt muttered. "I'm a teenager, we obsess over things and when something goes wrong then we…act like the world just ended."

Ellie got an interesting look on her face. "What would happen if the world ended? We're already dead so what would happen to us?"

Kurt rolled his eyes. "Google it…wait we don't have internet…can't do that."

"Hey, in my defense computers hepatize today's youth and turn them into cat worshiping robots! I read it in a parenting book," she said proudly.

"Ladies, focus! The world and my limited social life will be over if this date doesn't go well!"

"Cherub he'll love you…no matter what." Eleanor said. "And red is not your color. Keep the pants but change the sweater back to the green one…the one with the sparkles. You look like a real Cherub wearing that.'

"Thanks, Lady Eleanor you always know just what to say. I would hug you but then I'd fall right through you…"

"It's the thought that counts, darling now go get yourself a British boy."

"I still think a demon is controlling him," Connie muttered.

* * *

His family [As he know called them in his head] waved him off when Thomas's car pulled up the walk. Kurt had decided on his outfit, which included the green sweater and black skinny jeans. He added a pair of high tops. He had of course styled his hair to perfection, as it always was. Thomas noted these things the second he went to open the door to the car.

"If you don't mind, could you take your shoes off before coming in?" He asked, glancing down to his shoes. "New floor mats," he said as if that explained everything.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, questioning his seriousness. Thomas's expression didn't change so he obeyed. He sat down and set the shoes in his lap.

'Sorry about that, it's my dad's car and he would flip if-"

"If my perfectly clean footwear was to touch the floor mats?"

"Exactly," he said not detecting Kurt's sarcasm. "Thanks for understanding, love."

Despite his annoyance at the shoe comment, Kurt felt his heart give a little flip. A cute British boy had just called him love…in a cute British accent…every fantasy involving Tom Felton and his accent had suddenly come true with one word.

"Well, let us go then shall we?" Thomas grinned. He set the car into gear and they backed up down the driveway before turning and speeding away.

* * *

By the time they reached their destination Kurt learned that the stereotypes about Europeans and their driving abilities were all very true. They liked speed and Thomas's daddy's car had speed and the country roads that they were driving down had no innocent bystanders to run over and no stop signs. The blonde didn't hold back and Kurt felt just as safe as he had when Connie was behind the wheel of that bloody pick-up truck.

"Um…don't you think this is a little fast?"

"A little? I see I'm losing my touch!"

He speed it up a little bit more, the dirt flying up on all sides caking the doors…Kurt wondered what his daddy would say about that. So he just sat back and let him have his fun. He was hoping that he would get in trouble and his British car loving daddy would kill him for messing up his precious car.

_Wow, half an hour into a date and you are mentally killing him…if his daddy is that obsessed with cars anyway._

This was not off to a good start.

"Here we are!" He announced, sounding a lot like a certain annoying five year old…whose name Kurt couldn't remember at the moment. That fact alone would annoy him for the rest of the day.

"Where are we?" Kurt asked. One of the many winding back roads had led them into a clearing next to a pond…the water couldn't have been more than five feet deep. Thomas got out and opened the Cherub's door like the proper gentlemen that he hadn't been for the entire date.

That was when Kurt noticed the picnic basket set up on a plaid blanket. A purple and _green_ plaid blanket. Normally Kurt would rant about the tackiness but at the moment he couldn't get over how this was the most romantic thing a guy had ever done for him. This proved his almost pathetic social life back in Lima.

"After you?"

Kurt smiled and pleaded with the spaghetti monster in the sky that he didn't look like joker at that moment. "With pleasure," he replied.

* * *

_"Boo you must tell me everything! I demand to know and you know how violent I can be when I don't get what I want."_

"And I'm sure Sam knows this by now…with what you've told me-"

_"Hey don't change the topic! I need to know here, boo."_

"Fine it was a complete dud, 'cedes. He told me to take off my shoes before I got into his car-"

_"Ooh this sounds bad already."_

"Tell me about it." He groaned. "He brought me to this lake and…not even twenty minutes after we ate he said he wanted to go swimming and…well after I refused…he pushed me in…fully clothed."

_"Oh, don't tell me-"_

'I was wearing that blue-green sweater and now it is beyond repair…expectably since I won't have dry-cleaning services until I get back to Lima and by then it'll be…well it's not savable and it was one of my favorites and…I'll be forever alone, won't I?"

_"No, a guy like you…oh no hell to the no! You'll find someone who knows better than to ruin your clothes…"_

Kurt's lip turned up a little. "Maybe I should just give up on men altogether and rent out a dump in Lima Heights and live there with twenty or thirty cats until someone gets me on animal hoarders…"

_"Will. Not. Happen. Just because you didn't have your whole Tom Felton fantasy played out-"_

"Knew I shouldn't have told you that," he muttered.

_"Never getting out, what is said at sleepovers while being hyped up on sugar and soda…is never said again…it's the overall rules of sisterhood!"_

'And since I am an honorary sister-"

_"It applies to you, of course. But, getting back onto topic here- you'll find that man someday who will love you and appreciate everything that you are. It will happen, I mean look at me and Sam…that happened. '_

"Yeah and you are also Mercedes Jones who can kick some ass when needed and sometimes can out insult Satan. I mean Santana."

_"Yes, I know and you are Kurt Hummel whose fashion sense makes Perez Hilton eat his hat and whose ice queen glares could win awards and have in the past."_

Kurt laughed and Mercedes smiled to herself. She had cheered him up even if he won't admit it.

Long after hanging up with Mercedes, Kurt wondered to himself…would there ever be anyone for him? Or would he be the insane one on the block…featured in the regular hoarders and also on animal hoarders?

What man in his right mind would put up with him?


	19. Chapter 19

**A quick note. I could not find all that much information about the actual ceremony itself so there might be some historical inaccuracies and for that I am sorry. I'm a bit nervous how people will react to this chapter so please leave a comment letting me know what you think. **

**I continue to own nothing and never will. **

* * *

Chapter 19

The ceremony was same as always. It never changed really. The girls dressed in their very best attire and arrived at the venue with a little time to spare. They all were nervous as hell. This was the moment. The moment that will determine the rest of their lives, who they will marry and who's events they will be invited to.

One does not want to be remembered as the girl who tripped over her train.

Rachel purposely shortened her train so that she would not trip on it. She was taking no chances. Rachel was wearing the most beautiful dress that she had ever seen let alone worn. It was a light pink with white laces up the back. A pattern of crosses covered the bottom edge of the wide skirt. Her neckline was modest but very tight around her breasts. A lace choker completed the look.

Her hair was done up in curls with a few real flowers tucked inside.

She stood outside the door, writhing her hands and trying her best to remember to breathe. She was up next.

"Curses to my last name," she muttered.

The girls were organized in alphabetical order and it turns out that the A's and the beginnings of the B's were very short. She had hoped that she would at least have time to find Quinn and wish her luck before she went in.

She felt as though her lover was there with her, in spirit on this so very important day.

"Just don't trip," she whispered to herself in encouragement.

The door opened and she walked inside. She did not hear it being closed behind her, her heart was pounding too hard.

She did not seem all that pleased to be here either and with that she felt a bit better. The queen got bored as well, this whole idea clearly was not hers.

_Well, of course,_ Rachel thought to herself. _It must get mighty boring just sitting there for so long._

Her knees were shaking as she bent into the overly practiced curtsy. She rose and looked the Queen in the eye, hoping with every fiber of her being that she hadn't messed up. This was the most important moment of her life, or so everyone over the age of sixteen had told her.

But when she stood back up again, the edge of her corset slipped down, the love mark showed for only a brief second before she stood back up again.

She swore that she saw the Queen smirk to herself, as she walked out a moment later. She would never figure out what had made her have such a reaction.

* * *

Quinn's coming of age gala was by far the best of everyone else's. She had 300 guests all inside this beautiful hall, her mother had rented. The gentlemen were plenty. The ladies were dancing and giggling at their attics.

Quinn found it all ridiculous.

Her dance card was full of names that she didn't know and didn't care about. She had danced only twice and didn't wish to dance anymore. But custom required her dance with every useless name on that list.

So when yet another gentlemen came to her and announced that it was his turn. She fake smiled and accepted his hand. It was cold and sweaty. Fantastic first impression, right?

He twirled her around to the slow sound of the waltz, making the occasional comment on her dress. She would reply back with something witty and they'd both laugh, it was fake. It was all fake. Neither of them would remember this dance by the end of the night and she was certain of it. It was useless and a waste of time.

She would never care about him.

It wasn't until he twirled her past Rachel that she even allowed herself to smile. She was dancing with a tall man, who seemed to have way to much length in his limbs for him to keep track of. She looked like a woodland creature next to him. He also never seemed to know where to put his hands, Quinn frowned in disapproval as his hand went a little too low.

He also kept making little comments that made Quinn wonder if he had had an education at all. She couldn't help but let out a little giggle at the sight. Rachel caught this and stuck out her tongue in a very unladylike fashion before her long limbed partner twirled her back into the crowd.

"Well that was a bit rude." Her partner said.

"Excuse me?"

"That was Miss Berry wasn't it? Makes sense considering her parentage."

Quinn stomped on his foot, abruptly stopping the dance.

"Ow! What the devil was that for!" He screamed, hopping on his foot fearful of letting pressure on it.

"What does her parentage have to do with it?!"

By that time everyone had caught sight of their argument and were eagerly listening in, it disgusted her.

"…what I mean is that people like her…are different and that ladies should behave like ladies."

"And what do YOU suppose a _lady_ should behave like?" She asked, an eyebrow raised.

Her and everyone else in the hall awaited his response. This was certainly very good gossip. It would be around the hall then out before the sun rose.

"Well…uh she should be quiet and occasionally witty and not do anything that might harm the reputation of her husband or beau."

She rolled her eyes. "It is vain to assume that ladies should be content with what life has given them, according to their sex. It is not right to assume that one should be happy with darning socks and waiting for their husband to come home. I don't like waiting and don't plan on starting now."

She ripped her dance card off her wrist and tossed it to the floor. To make matters worse, she spit on it and rubbed the liquid into it.

"That _ladylike_ enough for you?"

"Disgusting…whore!" He screamed back at her. "Good luck marrying her off!" He yelled to Quinn's parents at the other side of the hall. He stomped away cursing under his breath.

Luanne was at her side in an instant. "Quinn, darling that was a bit uncalled for…"

She reached out to touch her shoulder, Quinn flinched away.

"I don't care, he had it coming and now since no one here has anything better to do than gossip over my personal life, then I'm going to go take a breathier. Excuse me."

She just about ran out of the hall and after a few seconds of thoughtful reflection, Rachel followed suit. She needed someone to listen to her, right now.

* * *

Quinn's hand went over her mouth and she screamed into it to muffle the sound. She had never been so angry! How dare he insult Rachel? What right did he have to judge her like that?

Why was the world so cruel? Why couldn't they just be free?

If Rachel had been a man, there was no way in hell that he would have made that ignorant comment. If she had been male…then…she was be free as a bird, like she deserved to be.

Like every woman deserved to be.

"Quinn."

She turned and allowed a small smile to cross her lips. So Rachel had run after her, the gossip would be terrible on this one and she found that quite…awesome.

"Rachel," she replied. "I-"

Rachel didn't say another word before taking Quinn into her arms. For a moment they just held each other. Like they didn't need anything but that warmth from the other girl…sometimes you just needed to held, just to assure yourself that there were still people out there who loved and cared about you. Quinn needed to be reminded of this, so often.

"Quinn, he deserved every word." She whispered into Quinn's shoulder. "But you didn't have to-"

"I was protecting you, being a true…gentleman I suppose." She smirked. "I had to protect your virtue from that evil, evil man."

Rachel looked up. "So you always get to be the gentleman? What if I want a turn?"

Quinn laughed, "I suppose I could let you…every once and a while."

She stepped back a bit and glanced over her shoulder down the hallway, before turning back to the blonde. "Then, Miss Fabray, shall we dance?"

She held out her hand. "You did say that I get to be the gentlemen sometimes so I'm taking that chance now. "Quinn rolled her eyes, and placed her hand in hers. Rachel pulled her close and set up their positions for a waltz, her taking the man's role.

But there's no music.

"I don't know if you know this, Miss Fabray but I happen to be quite the performer and somewhere along the line…I heard that you might be as well."

"I've never sung in front of people before."

"Well, according to society me loving you makes me inhuman so…its different. Sing with me?"

She nodded. "You start."

Rachel nodded back and dug inside of her, searching for a song that would help make Quinn feel better and suit the situation. She got the perfect idea and couldn't help but smile, she would just make it up as she went along.

_"Sometimes it feels like I'm dreaming ooh, when I'm here with you. Sometimes I have to pinch myself…just to know that it's all true. That it's real." _She sang.

_"Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night, wishing I was there to wake up next to you. "_Quinn added. Rachel was a bit surprised she hadn't been expecting her voice to quite match hers. It was very impressive.

_"Sometimes I wish it was different. I wish I could, be with you ooh."_

_"I always wish that.'_

_"I love you."_

_"I only love you more."_

They swirled around that hallway, swinging to the slow melody of their collective voices. They moved to the melody of the love that they had. The love that they were so glad that they found, they would never regret a single moment and they both tried to say that in their on the spot lyrics.

Eventually they stopped, both singing and dancing and just stared into each other's eyes. It was once again a mutual decision when their lips met, whispered I love you's against each other's lips.

"Quinn, this is our last night," Rachel whispered.

"I know."

"Let's make it count I want to be with you…all of you."

"A-are you sure?"

She nodded.

Quinn smirked.

Quinn scooped her up, wedding style making the other girl giggle, as she carried her into one of the many rooms dotting the hallway.

It was a small unused sitting room, with a couch placed in front of a large unlit fireplace. The curtains were drawn tight against the windows and the entire room was hidden under a deep coat of dust. It was cold and damp…they didn't care.

Their lips met in a fiery lustful passion, they didn't try to lower their sounds of pleasure. They didn't care as this was their last day, they might as well go out with a bang.

"I see that mark didn't heal up," Quinn whispered.

She shook her head. "I had to make my dress line higher thanks to you."

She looked up at Quinn with such adorable defiance, she didn't take her seriously one bit. She knew that she had enjoyed it and that she would enjoy what they were going to do tonight, literally a back hallway away from the party. The thought that they could get caught at any second heightened the pleasure.

Quinn rolled her eyes and before Rachel even knew what had happened she bit into the mark again. Quinn licked it clean, as Rachel panted her breathing quickening with every second.

Quinn shoved her down into the plush cushions, downright attacking her throat. She ripped the chocker off with her teeth, Rachel gasped.

"Q-Quinn…they'll know…oh!"

Quinn had strangled their hips together, twisting their legs between the two of them. The massive skirts were getting in the way, with every single thrust. Quinn's hands wandered downward and pinched her bottom through the layers.

Rachel gasped.

"My, my…someone's a bit dirty today."

"For your pleasure, darling," she said with a sly wink.

Rachel shoved forward and kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. Her tongue traced a long line down the side of hers and they both practically moaned from the intensity.

"Rachel, a-are you ready? I mean, are you absolutely certain…about all this."

Quinn looked so lost at that moment. The lust from earlier had been washed away and now only love filled those bright blue eyes. Rachel knew that she loved her, she loved her more than she loved the stage, she loved her more than she loved her talent and even more than she had loved her defiant mother.

She was ready and now was the only time that she could ever be.

So she met Quinn's eyes and whispered: "I-I'm ready, I have no idea what I'm doing…but I'm ready to find out."

Quinn responded without another word. They slowly undressed, revealing each layer with a kiss and a shy smile [Cursing inside their minds, of how many layers that really was] before the sex haze took over and so did their animal inscient.

Neither of their first times could have been better.

Because they were doing it with someone that they loved and that was what really mattered.

* * *

Rachel's breathing had slowed and she found herself drifting back from an incredible dream. The haze and the pleasure still coursing through her…naked body. Her eyes opened wide as she took in the sights around her.

She was not clothed and she was lying very openly on a couch and Quinn was draped across her legs. It hadn't been a dream…it had been real.

Rachel slowly sat up, wincing at bit at the unusual pain in her lower area. Only what felt like seconds before Quinn's tongue had been…

She blushed, despite herself.

She reached out and brushed over Quinn's tangled hair, smiling to herself. She was just so beautiful, sometimes it was unbearable to be near her because of her strange beauty. Her long blonde hair was spread out across Rachel's legs. Her hair was normally so set up, so in fashion of the time that Rachel had never actually seen it down. After a while, the hair pins had gone flying for the both of them. She hadn't had the chance to really look…at that point. Now she admired the natural color and even ran her fingers through it.

Quinn sighed in her sleep and snuggled into her touch.

Rachel giggled, she was almost like a cat when she slept.

Rachel looked down to her face, her dark eyelashes were resting on her pointed cheekbones. She just looked so delicate, almost like a more adult porcelain doll. She was the most beautiful girl that she had ever seen but she knew that she was by far…a lot more than that.

She was fierce but also weak and afraid.

She was daring but again also scared.

She had made so many mistakes but had learned from them and had become an even better person out of it.

But most of all…she wanted freedom, so badly that sometimes it ached.

Rachel was the only person who had ever seen this side of Quinn and probably the only one that ever would. Since she was so closeted and so terrified sometimes.

Rachel smiled and ran her finger down Quinn's cheek. She sighed in her sleep and Rachel thought about waking her up but at the same time didn't want to. She just looked so beautiful...it could wait...

Her finger froze in place and her eyes grew wide as saucers. There were footsteps…out in the hallway and they were coming closer. There were voices, probably wondering where they had disappeared off to…how long had they been gone?

Rachel didn't even know.

But she did know two things. One, there was no time left for them to dress and pretend that they had gotten lost. And two, they were going to get caught. Rachel knew what would happen then. They would be torn apart, never allowed to see each other again.

They would be sent to prison or even worse. She had once heard a story about a man who had been caught. He was buried alive in a ditch back behind his estate. They didn't find the body until it was already too late.

Was that the fate that awaited them?

The voices grew louder and she could hear a door opening and closing. They would be here any second, now. She glanced down at Quinn, still blissfully asleep, a smile crossing her beautiful face.

She knew what she had to do.

It was daring.

It was practically suicide.

They would be the talk of the town, for years. They would gossip about the two devil children over tea and cookies. Their families would be shamed out of the country. Rachel wondered if they would go to America, start over in the new world. Pretend that they had never had daughters and never have a second thought about their love.

The footsteps were right outside the door now and Rachel had to act fast. The door was just opening when she pulled Quinn up on top of her and kissed her. Rachel held her tight against her, wanting to feel every inch of her before it happened.

She woke when she heard the scandalized screams from the hallway and she kissed Rachel back with a fierce intention. It would be their last kiss.


	20. Chapter 20

**Greetings, I just wanted to drop in and say that this is the last 'real' chapter. There are two epilogues after this [One for each storyline]. I hope you enjoy this chapter and if you do don't be afraid to let me know.**

**I continue to own nothing. **

* * *

Chapter 20

No one had seen the cherub all day. He seemed to have woken up long before everyone else and escaped before they could react to his disappearance. Everyone knew where he was of course. They just all hoped that he had gotten something to eat before he climbed up there.

Kurt Hummel, sat up on the roof wearing a pair of old jeans and a random T-Shirt he normally used for sleeping when his good PJs were in the wash. He simply didn't feel the need to be all that fabulous today.

Even cheesecake couldn't help him.

He did not feel like eating. He didn't feel like doing anything.

His heart was broken again. He wondered how many times it would take before it ceased to exist at all. It certainly felt like the end of the world, to him. Kurt wrapped his arms around his middle and blinked back the tears, Thomas didn't deserve to have him cry over him.

He stared down, watching the weeds sway in the breeze below him. The sun was beating down and it was certain to be a hot day. But Kurt could see the dark clouds gathering and knew that they were in for a storm that night. He just hoped that this roof was as steady as it looked. Never could be sure considering Connie's skills around the house.

He sighed, burrowing his face into his hands. He couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he just had his standards set too high or maybe Thomas had done all that on purpose…to shake him off?

He didn't hear Blaine come up behind him but he knew that he was there. The idea that he came to find him, brought a small smile to his face. He was glad of it, he hadn't smiled all day and was honestly beginning to worry about his mental state.

"A penny for your thoughts," Blaine asked. He sat down next to him.

"Life frickin' sucks," he replied.

Blaine's lips curled up a little at the edges.

"Tell me about it, I brutally died and have no real idea of what happened to the love of my life…yes life does…suck...I'm sure I can understand."

Kurt tried to hold back his laughter but some escaped anyways. "Sorry, but I'm a teenager overdramatizing things is kinda what we do."

"Tell me what happened." He blushed and ended up stumbling over his words. "{I-I mean sometimes it h-helps to tell someone these types of things. I won't judge."

"Okay well be prepared for a teenage overload, Blaine Anderson. Life doesn't get more interesting than the following story. So, I met Thomas in that book tour that I went to with Connie and I thought he was amazing. I mean a cute British blonde boy who was actually gay…that never happens to me, just saying. I have a long line of straight boy crushes", he added after seeing his confused expression. "Don't even get me started on that…we'd be up here all day if you did."

Understandable, he said.

"So moving on, I had already began picking out baby names by the time we had finished our tea and crumpets, you see. I was in L-O-V-E." He rolled his eyes. "So when he asked me if I wanted to see him again I right away said yes…I mean I couldn't say no, right? He asked me to remove my shoes before getting into his car then proceeded to speed down back roads…the car was covered in dirt. I was already annoyed with him then we ate a romantic lunch by a pond and then was forced to go swimming…fully clothed…it was not pleasant."

"Understandable," Blaine added.

Kurt nodded. He wondered if he should tell Blaine about what happened next…something that he hadn't even told Mercedes. Could he trust Blaine with that type of information?

Kurt glanced his way and the concerned look on the phantom's face was enough to make him decide already. He took a deep breath.

"…he kissed me," he whispered.

Blaine blinked. "But you were mad at him and- oh."

He nodded. "He's very tall and surprisingly strong. That makes this the second time that's ever happened to me."

"Wait the second? Did someone...oh Kurt…"

He nodded, tears in his eyes. "That's why I won't be seeing him anymore…I can't…I can't." The tears that he had been holding back suddenly started pouring out. Blaine reached out and took his hand. It was an odd feeling, Blaine didn't have skin or blood so he was very cold and his fingers also kept going through Kurt's hand. The presence was enough for him and he smiled.

…besides how many times in your life have you held hands with a ghost?

"Thank-you Blaine," he whispered. "I try so hard to not let myself look like this…weak…and yet sometimes I just can't…"

"Shh, everyone needs to cry sometimes, Kurt. It's perfectly human…besides people you wouldn't support you…don't matter anyway. Anyone that hurts you, just think of them like sandpaper. Sure you'll get scraped but in the end you'll end up polished and they'll just end up useless."

Kurt smiled, locking eyes with him.

"I'm so glad that I came here," he said. "My father was right, I did need a break from everything…and I'm glad I met you…maybe I'll be able to go back and…handle it all now."

"Glad I could be of service, Kurt."

They stayed up there for a long time. The conversation eventually turned to something lighter but neither of them forgot the words said.

Kurt understood him. Dark and often sinful said and all. He understood it all and could connect with him on that level…a level that he had never had with Gavin. Memories of his past life were vanishing until all that mattered was right here and right now. All that mattered was Kurt sitting next to him, their fingers impossibly interlocked.

He was beginning to dread the coming fall more than ever.

But he pushed that away too. Why think of the cherub being gone when he had him here now? For the first time in his undead life he enjoyed himself and he couldn't remember a time when he had been more happy and that was obvious to anyone with eyes.

_Dear journal,_

_I'm glad my father pushed me to come here against my will. I have made so many great new friends and have learned so much and most importantly…I think I've fallen in love…for real this time._

_We could never be together but at least I can say that I've been in love before and we'll always have each other…as friends._

Kurt didn't know what had woken him. One moment he had been sound asleep and the next his eyes had just popped open and refused to shut again. He let his eyes get used to the dim lighting before he noticed that Blaine was staring directly out the window, unmoving. His phantom form was blinking in the light so Kurt could only see the outline of his once impressive body. A lightning bolt flashed and lit up his spirit in the most beautiful and the most terrifying way.

He crept out of his bed and looked out to see what had caught his attention. The courtyard looked the exact same as before. The storm continued to rage outside, the thunder sounded with such force that it appeared to shake the old house's very structure.

That was when he noticed it. There was an old fashioned cab driving up the walk. Kurt blinked in surprise, he had never seen such a realistic carriage before…interesting…but why was someone driving up so late? And in the middle of a storm no less.

"So you can see it?" Blaine asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Who are they?" Kurt asked, just as the driver opened the door.

"I don't know, this is the first time's it has happened. But they look familiar…oddly enough."

"Blaine, this may seem like a strange question and well heck what's not strange nowadays but are they…alive? Their image doesn't seem completely real, see?"

Kurt was correct. Their images kept blinking, along with the carriage and the horse pulling it. The man shouted something over the holler of the wind and the driver shouted something back, his voice lost in the wind. He grabbed something out of the back storage area and it slammed onto the ground, he began to drag it…something wrapped in a large burlap sack…almost-

"My god, we're witnessing a murder." Kurt exclaimed, his eyes widening.

Blaine caught on in an instant. "Kurt, go fetch a jacket and some shoes. We'll follow them."

Blaine was not certain why he wished to follow them but something was telling him that following the hoodlums would be a good idea…maybe just maybe it would help him in his case.

Kurt didn't ask questions, he just grabbed the first coat he could find [Not even checking the labels] and shoved his arms into the holes. He buttoned up the buttons all wrong because of how much he was rushing. He didn't even check if they were his good boots or not…he just zipped them up his legs and ran back to Blaine.

Blaine didn't take his eyes off the pair below them, who were now dragging the body towards the area of the courtyard that used to be heavily forested. One of them carried a shovel.

"Blaine how are we going to catch up with-"

The window flew open, the wind and rain rushing in the storm was worse than they had thought. Blaine grabbed Kurt and held him as tight as he could as he jumped out into the night. His arms kept slipping through his body but somehow Blaine never dropped him. Kurt's first reaction was to scream…a high pitched sheark that alerted everyone within a mile that Kurt was flying in a ghost's arms…despite how odd that sounds.

"Blaine!"

"Don't worry I've got you," he assured him and somehow he did. Kurt didn't question it.

Kurt quieted down as they reached the pair, straying a little bit behind as to not alert them of their presence.

"Blaine, I don't think they can see us." Kurt said, after he had been set back on the ground. He waged a hand in front of one of their faces. He didn't react.

"What is this?"

Neither of them knew so neither of them answered…they just followed them. Kurt would catch random glimpses of what this had looked like before. A patch of trees here and there or a bush that most certainly was not there before…

After walking for what felt like hours, Blaine occasionally helping him by lifting him so he could rest up a bit before they continued. Finally one of the men spoke.

"Rick, where we bury it?!"

"Somewhere's where nobodys find it," he replied. "There, under that big old birch."

Kurt could see the birch in question, but it wasn't huge anymore. All it was, was a stump but he caught random glimpses of it in its former glory days. Kurt watched as the man dropped the body to start to dig the hole to stash it in. The body had been stuffed in legs first, the head end was open. Kurt crept a bit closer, just as the body rolled over and the head fell out.

He didn't hold back his gasp.

The head was covered in thick black curls and the eyes were a golden brown. His skin paled out from its normal tan. Kurt knew, he knew right away.

"Blaine…it's-"

He didn't even have to say anymore because he knew. They were witnessing his inhumane burial. He wanted to look away- they both did- but he couldn't. This was where his body was buried…this was where his last remains were…why had he never realized that before? Was that why he was so connected to this place?

The men had finished the hole, right beneath that old birch tree.

They had kept their promise of burying him somewhere with a view, he thought with a shiver.

The body was tossed in, as soon as he hit the bottom of the hole…the image disappeared. The hole was gone but a rusted shovel, half buried under the mud was still laying there.

The murders must have forgotten it when they had made their quick escape. Kurt eyed it for a moment before grabbing the handle and ripping it from the ground. The rain poured down and the wind rushed by when the shovel hit the exact spot where the body was dumped.

"Kurt, what are you doing?" Blaine yelled over the wind.

"No one will believe any of this if we don't have proof!"

"No one will believe it anyway…it's crazy. Stop, leave it be!"

Kurt stopped and faced the phantom. His eyes had changed color again, this time they were a vibrant green that flashed every few seconds as he stood there.

"You don't want people to know…once and for all what happened to you? I mean…we could do more research and figure out who those men were and-"

Blaine's image was blinking. Kurt rubbed his eyes but it didn't go away. Blaine was fading.

"Kurt I-I don't have much time."

"What do you mean-"

"What I mean is that…I don't have any more unfinished business and I'm fading fast." He said, this all very quickly. "So please let me speak…we don't have much more time together. Kurt, I think what I was looking for all these years was understanding and you gave it to me…"

"Wait, are-are you moving on?" Kurt asked, he moved closer to him. His phantom form was fading, and every few seconds would disappear all together.

"Kurt, I just want you to know that…I love you and wish you forever happiness."

"Blaine I-"

Kurt reached out, just to touch him one last time but he was gone. His hand fell through air and he dropped it by his side. The rain pounded down and the wind tossed his hair, he hardly even noticed. He could not take his eyes off of the spot where he once was.

He was gone.

It was just like that.

No flash of light…

No pearly gates signaling the way into the next life…whatever that is.

Like so many other things on this planet…he was simply gone. Gone and never to return again.

Kurt had never gotten the chance to reply…never had the chance to say that he loved him also. Never had the chance to say that he had learned so much from him and that he would be so grateful to him for the rest of his life…no matter where that led him.

Because he was just gone.

Kurt felt a stinging around his eyes and before he knew it…his tears mixed with the rain pouring down around him.

He had only ever cried a few times in his life. He had cried when his dog died when he was seven. He cried when his mom got sick and there was nothing he could have done to help her but still thought that he could. He cried when he fell off the playground and scraped his knee. He remembered feeling that that instant was the end of the world and like the pain would never stop. How wrong he was. He cried when Dave had forced a kiss on him…he had stayed in that locker room for an hour wondering what he had done to deserve this. He had cried when his father had that heart attack and he thought he might lose him.

Now he cried because he didn't understand. He didn't understand where Blaine had went and he didn't understand why he hadn't gotten to say goodbye. Once again he felt like a child, a little boy who didn't understand why his mother couldn't stay with him.

The rain was starting to slow down when Kurt turned back to the crude grave. The dirt was a bit upturned and the mud was slick and wet. Not caring about the mud he dropped to his knees and smoothed the mud over the grave.

Kurt fell asleep there, a few feet away from the stump his body caked in mud. His dreams were mudded, full of regret and sorrow.

The rain had stopped and the sun was shining overhead already drying the ground below. He blinked up at the impossibly bright light above him. It only took a moment for what had happened to sink back in, he took in a deep breath.

Kurt stood and stumbled to the stump, using a piece of rusted metal from the shovel he wrote in the damp wood: _Blaine Anderson, death by ignorance._


	21. Chapter 21

**First epilogue:**

**I continue to own nothing. **

**I am updating this a day early because...I cannot wait to post this any longer. **

**I must warn in advance that you all may kill me for this...**

* * *

Chapter 21

November 23 1854

_Dear Quinn,_

_I know you may never get this letter but I feel like I must write anyway. Father has decided to send me away, to get his devil child out of the way until the rumors die down, I guess. I don't believe that they ever will and I think that's amazing. Let people know about us, Quinn. They may not understand how we could have possibly been in love, as we were and still are. It's still an accomplishment that they know about it and maybe someday they'll understand, I think it's a dream worth fighting for. Don't you?_

_Anyways, I'm on a ship now. My roommate is currently throwing up in a bucket at the other end of the cabin, the sea just doesn't agree with her, I suppose. It doesn't bother me._

_Father, hired her to be my escort for when I reach New York City. Yes that's right Rachel Barbra Berry is heading off to New York, to attend university there. That had always been a big dream of mine and yet I'm not at all excited._

_I'm worried. Your mother refused to tell me what would happen to you. I don't even know if you're alive as I pen this letter._

_That scares me Quinn._

_I want to know if you're okay and well. I hate not being able to know that fact even._

_I miss you Quinn and just so you know…I'll never stop loving you._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_December 12 1854_

_Dear Quinn,_

_We've docked and are currently staying in a hotel. The city is amazing, it is so busy and so alive. I just love to explore it every single street brings something new. I have smiled again, Quinn. It feels so wrong to smile without you here._

_Miss Coulter [My escort] is taking us to see a play: A reproduction of Romeo and Juliet. I know I'm going to cry and not just for the obvious reasons._

_But because their love was doomed and so was ours…_

_I miss you Quinn and I'll never stop loving you._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_December 13__th __1854_

_Dear Quinn,_

_I did cry as I knew I would. Miss Coulter lent me her handkerchief, to wipe my tears but they just wouldn't stop. When I watched Romeo take the poison I couldn't stop thinking about our end. Things were just so horrible after we were discovered._

_I just wish that they had given us the chance to say goodbye. They couldn't let us have that much, I'm disgusted by my own blood for that._

_Why couldn't it have been different? I wish you were here and we could cry over Shakespeare together._

_And now my ink's all smudged by my tears. I don't care…I miss you Quinn and I'll never stop loving you._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_December 25__th__ 1854_

_Dear Quinn,_

_It's Christmas. I got Miss Coulter a pair of really nice black gloves, with a bit of lace around the cuffs. She adored them of course, she would still enjoy the holiday even if I didn't get her a gift. Since she tends to look to the better side of things…I find it hard to do that now._

_I was walking today and saw the most amazing pair of earrings in a shop window. They were simple and yet elegant, silver hoops with a row of diamonds along the sides. I can't stop thinking of how amazing they would look dangling from your ears, how they would catch the light when you would laugh. Making your eyes just bright up and you would look so free._

_You never understood how beautiful you looked in those simple moments, when you were least expecting it. I miss those moments. People say that time can heal anything and yet…I find myself getting no better, day by day._

_I miss you Quinn and I will never stop loving you._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_January 7__th__ 1855_

_Dear Quinn,_

_School started and I'm now a university student. There are surprisingly many other women on the same route as me. So, many others wanting to be defiant and prove to be more than just domestic animals. I find it a very empowering prospect. It inspires me to do my best and try to succeed._

_I now want that diploma. I have no idea what I'll do afterwards, but I want to hold it in my hand just to say that I did it. Just to say, to everyone who is against women in education…to go to hell because I'm just as capable as any man!_

_I miss you Quinn and I will never stop loving you._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_January 23 1855_

_Dear Quinn,_

_I haven't sung since that night. Singing now just feels like an insult to…us. I don't want to share my voice with anyone else now. I will always be at home on that stage but now…my voice belongs to you and I wouldn't have it any better._

_My brain belongs to the world, now. I want to make something of my life and I want to make sure that everyone back home has plenty to gossip about once I make it._

_Because I shall make it, Quinn…I shall._

_I miss you still Quinn and I'll never stop loving you. I mean never, you will always be in my heart, where you belong…for all time._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

_February 11__th__ 1855_

_Dear Quinn,_

_I saw a blonde girl walking down the street today. From behind she just looked so much like you that I almost called out your name. But then she turned around to call for a cab._

_Her eyes were blue and not nearly as beautiful as yours._

_I went off into the nearest alley and cried. I just sat down and brought my knees up and cried my heart out, Quinn. I wish you could hear me, I wish you could hold me and I wish that I hadn't let so many people down._

_I never figured out what had happened to Mr Anderson. I didn't end up saving you either. I let them take you away that day, Quinn and that's always something that I'll regret. I'll always regret not fighting harder, not showing them that I loved you and that there was nothing that could tear us apart._

_Quinn…sometimes when I get like this…I want to end it. I want to act as Juliet and slice that little dagger across my wrists and just watch myself bleed out. Just watch myself, slowly fading from this world and all this pain._

_But then I remember that…you wouldn't want that. You would have wanted me to live on through this and keep trying to be happy. No matter how much it hurts._

_But, darling it's getting very hard to do that. Some days are better than others. Some days I can smile, I can laugh. But on days like this…I just can't help myself from breaking down._

_I can't help the tears from rolling down my face and I can't stop myself from getting those types of thoughts._

_I miss you so much Quinn and I love you…I'll never stop loving you ever. You'll always be there…and I will never be able to stop this pain._

_Love,_

_Rachel_

From that moment on Rachel wrote a letter to Quinn every single day. Sometimes she simply talked about her day while others she ranted about how unfair the world was. How horrible it was that they were never allowed to be together. That the world had its morals and its traditions.

_What right did the world have at choosing her happiness?_ She would constantly question.

It never got easier, as people said it would. She was always one step away from tears until she found herself running dry. At those times she would be like the walking dead: simply moving between tasks with no thought and certainly no heart in any of it.

It got even worse after she found out what happened to Quinn. That she had been dead before she had even put pen to paper that first day on the ship. That her mother had sent her off to an estate outside of London, to work as a regular servant except she didn't get paid and she was treated as no better than a slave. That silly picture of Rachel tucked under her pillow.

They found her dead in the middle of the night. She had froze to death down in that horrible cellar. Her hands closed around that picture, the image could never leave Rachel's mind.

Now Rachel traveled back to London, clutching her notebook of unsent letters in her fist. She had sent the first letter but it had returned to her with a horrible red stamp across it. She never sent one out again, she didn't want anyone else reading her letters. They were for Quinn and only Quinn.

She hadn't been able to leave until she had gotten her diploma and earned enough money for the passage there. She never wrote to her father again and he didn't even attempt to contact her. She liked it better that way.

Quinn hadn't been buried in the Fabray lots, no she had been off to the side buried where all the babies and nameless orphans were buried.

Her tombstone only showed her name and the year she died. Anyone could walk right past it and not think anything different. But when Rachel read those words, tears sprung to her eyes. It was pure horror that she would be remembered this way. Quinn deserved so much more. She deserved the world and Rachel hadn't been able to give it to her.

She knelt in front of the cold stone and ran her fingers along the words.

"Hello, Quinn. I miss you and I never stopped loving you, you know. I hope you know that even though my letters never got to you. I tried once but it just got returned to me, unopened. I hoped that someday I could give you those letters…in person but I was…I was too late. So here, you can keep these and maybe wherever you are…you can read them and see that…I love you…I love you just so much."

She set the bundle of letters in front of the stone. She picked up a piece of rock from the broken grave next to hers and used it to weigh them down. They flapped a little in the breeze, trying hard to escape but not being able to.

Rachel sat there for quite a while, just remembering every single memory. She wanted to remember everything so that someday…she could tell someone about Quinn. She hoped that someday she might be able to find someone that wouldn't care and would accept her as she was. She sat at the grave for several hours, she had lost track of time while she knelt there.

Rachel left London the next morning, on another freight ship and headed back to America. She had no idea what she would do but was still determined to make something out of her life.

A year later, Rachel married. She never loved him, like she had loved Quinn but she was tired of being alone and eventually found she loved him back. She worked as an author on the side of raising their three children and one rainy day she sat down with them.

They surrounded her chair, with such eager expressions because she was going to tell them The Story. The story that she had said that she would tell them someday, someday when they were a bit older.

She smiled sadly and said, "Well it all started back in London when my best friend fell in love…"

And there she told them the story of the most amazing person that she had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She soon lost herself in the story and nearly forgot that they were there.

She remembered all those days she had spent with Quinn. That walk in the park when Quinn had first told her about her mother beating her. She remembered asking her to go see that show with her and that slightly hesitant look before she said yes. She remembered looking down from the stage to seeing her sitting there and smiled. Rachel remembered feeling that she always wanted her there, always there to support her through it all and she would do the same.

The first time they kissed, she remembered that strange mixture of nervousness and pure joy.

She tried her very best to get this all out to her children. She had to tell them everything she had felt. They had to know everything that she had kept inside of her for so long. And when she finished, she regrettably told them that Quinn did not have a very happy ending.

That was when her daughter looked up to her and said, "I think it was happy for her, mum. She never stopped loving you and I think she would be happy...even with the circumstances."

She felt tears well up in her eyes and she smiled, hoping that Quinn could see this. Hoping that she knew that there was chance for people like them, that was hope in the future generations. Quinn would be pleased.

And somewhere on a lonely unkempt grave, a bundle of letters ruffled in the wind and eventually nudged the rock off. They flew off in different directions, soaring away from all of it. They were free as birds, as everyone should be.


	22. Chapter 22

**Epilogue 2**

**Author's note at end of chapter. **

* * *

Chapter 22

They found Kurt later on that day. They didn't understand what had happened but they were all still there for their little Cherub. They helped him locate some wild flowers to place on Blaine's grave and helped tidy up the unkempt site. Connie promised that they would often visit and keep it in order even after Kurt would leave at the end of the summer. He could only nod, words were beyond him at the moment.

He spent hours there every single day after that.

He was a vigil in visiting that grave as he was with his mother's grave. He knew that he wouldn't be able to visit until the next summer…so he tried to get as much time in as possible. Sometimes he would talk to him, not knowing if Blaine could even hear him…but somehow he knew that he did and that thought was comforting. It meant that he would always have Blaine there with him, if he continued to believe in him.

Eventually Kurt stopped visiting for so long. On those days he spent the time cataloging the books. He would never finish in the short amount of time that he had but it didn't matter. He and Eleanor had a silent agreement that the Cherub would be returning the next summer and most likely every summer after that.

Kurt had taught her something that summer. He showed her that hanging onto the past was not worth it…if you ever want to have a future. She never bought another book and for once actually started reading some of the books that she had. After Kurt had left at the end of the summer, she drove her old truck out to the nearest town. She got it fixed up in the garage and joined a book club. She would drive down there every week, from then on and mingle with her new 'very alive' friends. She couldn't have thanked Kurt more for what he had done and how he had helped her. She gave him a gift before he left. It was a simple gift but it was the thought that really counted. It was a little blank notebook, the covers made from rich fabric that sparkled in the light.

"It's for your story, Kurt." She had said. "You continue to write your story here then come back next summer and we can bury this one with your old one."

It had been Connie's idea to bury his old [Now full] journal. It was inside a thick leather cover [To protect it] and buried a distance away from the Gnome pond.

Kurt had smiled and thanked her. He did write, every single day. Every bad memory and every good were recorded inside those pages. The good memories had gotten more and more often. Expectably after he had met him, a dapper young man who wears way too much hair gel and sings lead for Dalton's show choir group.

He never forgot Blaine of course. How could he? How often is it that you fall in love with a ghost? Blaine would always be there and was always just a blink of an eye away…he never stopped loving him even when he had started loving someone else.

* * *

It took a while but eventually Ellie had gotten the entire story out of the others. They had kept saying that she was to young to know a secret so big and so horrific. But she was not getting any older so when would she be old enough? Can you ever be old enough to experience pain?

She couldn't think of an answer, she was still just a child. Some things did just go over her head even though she strained to understand them. When she finally did understand everything she visited Blaine's grave.

"I know what I have to do." She said. "But I am a bit scared. I've never been to London before."

The whisper on the wind that day sounded a lot like Blaine's voice. It encouraged her to venture out and find her way to London. It took her months but she did manage to find her. She was Gavin's only known descendant and she lived in uptown London. Her mother had married well and that money had been passed down to her when she had died. Her father had died soon after, living the young girl alone and confused about what she wanted in life.

She had never thought about it before and now her future had the nerve to show up and expect her to do something. She had no idea what she could possibly do. When Ellie showed up, she was glad for the distraction. She had been seeing spirits for years but this was the first time one of them acknowledged that they could also see her.

Ellie sat down with her and told her the entire story. From that day when Gavin and Blaine had met, to the day when he finally crossed over- his sprit finally at peace. She had listened with eager ears waiting for the next plot twist.

When Ellie had finished, she was crying.

"Oh, thank-you dearest. I promise their story won't go untold any longer. I don't care how long it takes me but I will write that story…to the best of my abilities."

And she did. It took her six years and a couple very disastrous manuscripts before she had something that she was happy with.

When the book was published…it wasn't very popular. But those few fans now knew that forgotten story…it was no longer forgotten and for that she was glad. She had accomplished something worthwhile in her life at least.

Kurt finally did look up the word 'Cherub.' A Cherub is a pudgy faced baby with wings used to represent innocence in early biblical stories. He read over the definition a few times before laughing aloud.

He was anything but a Cherub and that was the irony of it all.

**The end**

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**Author's note-**

**Greetings, I hope you have enjoyed this story despite its slightly less than happy ending. If you enjoyed it feel free to leave a review, I love hearing from people and I promise I do not bite. **

**Now onto my thanks. Thank-you to my Beta reader and best friend who wished to remain nameless. This really would not have gotten anywhere without you. Thank-you to the people who came back to this story to read and the ones who put me on story and author alert. I'll admit this story does not seem all that popular but I am glad that it has had some sort of readership since I am very proud of it. **

**Thank-you to Nanowrimo camp which was where I wrote this story and it probably wouldn't have gotten out any other way. **

**And thanks to my mom because it couldn't have happened without her. **

**Love, **

**Thomlina**


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